


Shattered Beauty and Picking Up the Pieces

by rumpledspinster



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV), ouat
Genre: Caretaking, Depression, F/M, Light BDSM, Self Harm, Singing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-16
Updated: 2016-03-16
Packaged: 2018-05-27 01:27:53
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 24,453
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6264088
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rumpledspinster/pseuds/rumpledspinster
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Belle has a history of self harm. Her home life with her widowed father is not a good one, and it gets even worse when her father hatches a plan with the Gastons. Belle desperately needs to get away from it all, so desperately that she takes a job working for Mr. Gold, the only person in town with a worse reputation then her own. Together they find the strength to pick up the pieces of their shattered pasts.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Shattered Beauty and Picking Up the Pieces

Not all scars are visible. Sometimes we carry our scars on the inside. We may try to hide them, but the pain shows through in our eyes.  
***  
Belle stepped out into the grey day. She couldn’t help but sigh in relief, the overcast sky was a welcome reprieve from the too bright fluorescent lights of the Storybrooke Hospital Psychiatric Ward that had been her prison for the past six months. She ran her fingers through her slightly tangled hair and tried her best to smooth out the wrinkles in the oversized hospital garb she was wearing as a result of her father never bringing her clothes. As she does so, she can’t help but let her eyes linger on the once deep cuts on her wrists, the very things that landed her in that cell of a room in that excuse for a hospital. 

They’ve healed to nothing more than puffy, pink scars on her pale skin and she knows that before long they will fade to shimmering white like all the others before. If only…

“Come on Belle!” Belle’s father Moe had pulled up along the curb in the florist van he used for deliveries. Belle grabbed her plastic bag of meager belongings and her medication, and got into the passenger’s seat. 

The ride to her childhood home was a silent one. Moe pulled up into the drive and held out her keys. Belle reached out for them, her eyes never leaving the golden fleur de lis keychain with the inscription “May my golden lily always bloom”. Her mother had given her that key chain. The keys felt heavier then she remembered them. 

“I’ll be back around seven, so have dinner ready then.” Moe kept his eyes on the road ahead, clearly not intending to converse further. Belle got out of the van and made her way up the walkway to the front door. She turned the key in the lock just as she heard her father drive away. 

***  
The small two-bedroom home was messier then she’d left it. She’d been the one to keep it clean ever since her mother was too ill to do it. She sighed and then made her way down the hall to her bedroom. The room smelt stale and every surface was coated in dust from sitting empty for six months. Six months… he never visited. She supposed she shouldn’t be surprised. Of course he would pretend that nothing had happened, after all that’s what he’d been doing for the last seventeen years. 

It had been seventeen years since her mother had died. Her mother had battled cancer for a year at that point, during which time her father had been utterly useless. He started drinking heavily, missing deliveries, and running the family business into the ground. Belle had been left to pick up the pieces. She cared for her mother, kept house, and tried to keep her family afloat. It was difficult, at thirteen she felt like a child masquerading as an adult, but her mother’s kind words each night made her feel cared for. Her mother was her lighthouse. As long as her light shone Belle felt as if she were safe, as if she had direction, but then her mother died and Belle’s peace of mind along with her. 

Belle had felt as if the world were ending. She had wanted nothing more than to lock herself away and grieve for her loss, but she couldn’t. She had to make arrangements, keep house, care for her father… Belle had no choice but to bottle her emotions and lock them away. She was like a volcano, ready to erupt. Sometimes the pressure building under the surface would prove too much and she would have to relieve it. 

As a teenager she had kept the cutting to her thighs, but as she entered her twenties she had begun to cut her stomach and arms as well as flagellating her back with a beaded jump rope. The pain helped. Pain was easy. Her body did all the work while the pain drowned out the thoughts and experiences her mind would rather not dwell on. 

Belle set her medications out on her dresser. She then opened the window and began to strip the sheets from the bed. Belle felt as if she was on auto pilot as she started a load of laundry and returned to her room with a damp dust rag and wiped down every surface. Her room clean and aired out, she proceeded to dust and sanitize the whole of the house. She put the bedding in the dryer and a load of her clothes in the washer before vacuuming every room in the house; moping the kitchen and bathroom; and scrubbing all counters, faucets, sinks, showers and tubs. She grabbed the now dry bedding over one shoulder, placed the clothes into the dryer, marched to her bedroom and made her bed. 

Belle laid down upon the warm duvet. This wasn’t working. Her doctor at the hospital had said she simply needed to keep herself busy. As if being busy was all it took to make her “normal”. Belle didn’t even know what it meant to be normal and she suspected her doctor didn’t either. 

She glanced at the clock on her bedside table, six o’clock. Belle sighed as she hoisted herself up off the bed and strode into the kitchen. She opened the cabinets and then the fridge. Unsurprisingly she found beer and little else. Reluctantly she grabbed her purse and keys, locked up, and drove her little blue car into town.

***  
Storybrooke is a small town and it didn’t take long for people to spot her car and begin to point. Damn it. Belle got out of the car and hurried into the store making eye contact with as few people as possible. She could feel the stares and glares of the people in the parking lot and the store, and could hear their not so subtle whispers.  
“She was always such an odd child.”  
“Attention seeker.”  
They couldn’t be more wrong about that one, Belle thought. Just the opposite, she wished she could just melt into the background. 

Belle knew the layout of the store by heart and quickly picked up what she would need for dinner and incidentals throughout the week. She made no eye contact with the checker, grabbed her bags, and fled the store. 

Once home she quickly threw together dinner. The clock shone seven-thirty. Her father was late. She made him a plate and cleaned up the rest. She put the kettle on to boil and put tea in her tea pot. As she waited she pulled a well-worn book from her bag, The Bell Jar by Sylvia Plath. Belle had read it many times over the years. She could certainly relate to Esther’s feeling of being trapped under glass. Her stay at the hospital hadn’t helped that feeling, it had only intensified it. The medication that Dr. D’Arque at the hospital had prescribed only made it all that much worse. It left her confused and her memory fuzzy, fragmented. She felt as if the doctor was trying to erase her, leave her no more than an empty husk. She suspected that he didn’t really care about her thoughts and feelings, only results. He had left her feeling as if treating her was an inconvenience. 

Things began to get better once her case was transferred to Dr. Hopper. He had listened to her concerns and adjusted her medication. At least now she could function. Belle dreaded to think what had happened to her during the many chunks of missing memory under Dr. D’Arque’s care. 

Belle was pulled away from her thoughts by the whistling of the kettle. She set her book aside and filled her waiting teapot. Moe stumbled in reeking of alcohol. Belle could hear him plop into his favorite chair in the front room as she poured herself a cup of tea. 

“Belle!”  
“In the kitchen,” Belle called back.  
Moe replied in a sheepish voice, “you remember Gary Gaston.”

“Yeah?” Belle could already feel herself getting annoyed.

“Well you’re going to dinner with him tomorrow.”

“What?!” Belle had barely gotten home and her life was already spiraling out of control.

“Now Belle, this will be good for us. He’s got money and you need a life, children…”

Belle wasn’t listening any longer. She could feel the pressure building. She grabbed the still hot kettle from the stove and pressed it to her thigh letting the pain wash over her and silence her thoughts. 

The next night Belle stood in the front room in a nice sweater, a skirt, and dark leggings.  
“That’s my good girl. I knew you would choose to get better.” Moe smiled smugly as he answered the door.  
Belle could feel the all too familiar pressure building up again. How dare he think she chose to be like this! Belle paused a moment as doubt began to coalesce into a fog in her mind. Did she choose to be like this? She looked down at her clothes. Why was she going on this date? It wasn’t because she wanted to. The last thing she wanted was to be paraded about, a pariah on display, and she certainly had no interest in Gary. This was all for her father because she knew that unlike her mother, his love was conditional and as much as the conditions pained her the idea of having no one in the world who loved her was terrifying. 

Gary greeted Moe at the door and handed a pack of gum to Belle “for later”. Oh god he had winked. Belle felt as if she could vomit. 

He took her to the only Italian restaurant in town, Stromboli’s Family Restaurant. Belle asked, “Could we please have a booth in the back? Away from prying eyes.”  
Gary piped up in a voice loud enough for most of the restaurant to hear, “Nonsense! A table up front!”  
Belle tried her best to hide her face with her hair as they were shown to their seats. 

The whole dinner would turn out to be a nightmare. Gary proved himself to be just as narcissistic and self-centered as Belle remembered. She was barely listening to him any more when he said, “Mother has arranged for us to have a December wedding, so you have about six months to get in shape, but Mother is doing all the planning… Oh, by the way you’re wearing her dress.” 

“What?!” Belle nearly spat out her wine. Gary looked back at Belle with a mouth full of bread, “Didn’t your father tell you? We’re engaged.”

Belle grabbed her purse and made her way toward the door. 

“Where are you going?” Gary shouted as she made her way past the hostess.

“I don’t feel well, I’m going home.” With that, Belle headed outside and began the long walk home. 

“You’re home early,” Moe was sitting in his favorite chair, a beer in his hand. 

Belle fumed, “Apparently I’m engaged?!”

“Congratulations,” Moe replied.

“How dare you Papa!” angry tears streamed down her face. 

“How dare I?! Do you know what it’s like having you as a daughter?!” he spat back. 

“I can’t imagine it’s worse than being me,” Belle ran to her room and shut the door. Belle decided it was time to move out and move on. A job…I’ll get a job and move out. 

The next day Belle began her job search, but to her dismay no one in town would give her the time of day let alone hire her. Only one listing was left. A secretary to Mr. R. Gold, the only person in town with a worse reputation than her own. People called him cruel, heartless, monster, among other things. Which Belle supposed would make him desperate for a hire, so desperate that he might just hire her. 

Just as Belle was about to knock on the door of Mr. Gold’s Antiquities and Legal Services, a blonde woman burst through them in tears. She looked at Belle for a brief second before turning back into the shop to shout “I hope you get your tie stuck in a file cabinet you monster!”

Belle entered the shop in the wake of the irate blonde’s dust. “Are you still in need of a secretary?”

Mr. Gold took her in for a moment, raking his eyes down her slowly, “Aye.”

Belle held out a manila folder to him, “Here is my resume and a copy of my typing certificate.”

“Can you use a typewriter?”

“Yes. I learned to type on one.”

“Good. Are you pregnant?”

“No.”

“Do you plan to be?”

“No.” Belle suspected this line of questioning was illegal, but she answered the questions gamely. She needed this job and if she had to jump through hoops to get it, then so be it.

“Well, I must warn you Miss French the work will be boring.”

“Oh but I want to be bored! This job is ideal for me. I’m very good at following directions and I love mundane tasks.” 

“Hmm, we shall see. You start tomorrow.”

***  
Rumi Gold had a reputation in Storybrooke as a hardened business man and a heartless monster, but the truth was that he was simply a difficult man to love. 

His life had been one heartache after another, and just as his hands had become used to the restoration work he did daily, so his heart became used to pain developing protective callouses to keep caring at bay because experience had taught him that caring brings pain. 

Rumi had been a happy child, despite having lost his mother as an infant and having a lying cheat for a father. He had tried to see the good in the world, but that good became non-existent the day his father left. Rumi had tried so hard to convince himself that his father truly loved him, but deep down he always feared that he didn’t. Then one day his father told him he had never wanted a child, pushed him to the ground, spat in his face, called him a pathetic worm, and had left him on the side of the road. Rumi could still remember the smell of wet dirt and the cold rain like needles on his skin as he walked the five miles to his aged aunties home. 

When he was old enough, he joined the military and left his aged aunties and the little town of bad memories behind him, but once again the universe saw fit to deal him misery. He was wounded in an attack and took shrapnel to the chest. No severe damage was done, but his doctors discovered a heart murmur so he was discharged and sent home. When he arrived back at the home of his aunties, the home he had tried to leave behind, he was surprised to see Milah sitting in the front room. 

He and Milah had dated a bit before he shipped out, though he suspected she only went with him to make her ex jealous. And as it happened, that last night together before he had left Milah had seen her ex hot and heavy with one of her perceived rivals. That sight had turned her into a whirlwind of jealousy. A whirlwind that had damn near tore Rumi’s clothes off right then and there. Now a year later it seemed that their last night together had been a fruitful one. 

Rumi’s son Bae was the light of his life. He was the first good thing to ever happen to him. Rumi had married Milah in an effort to give Bae the life that Rumi had wished for himself, one with parents who loved him, but the marriage was an unhappy one. Milah blamed him and Bae for everything she deemed wrong in her life, all the perceived lost opportunities. She had always been verbally abusive, but as the years passed it escalated. She demeaned Rumi at every opportunity and made him feel weak and inferior. He felt trapped and subjugated. She hit and slapped, clawed and kicked. The marriage couldn’t go on and Rumi knew it, but he never thought…

One day he got a call that had crushed his very soul. Bae was dead. Bae had been asthmatic, a trait that Milah blamed on Rumi. Milah believed that Bae needed to “toughen up”, but Rumi had told Bae to ignore her and made sure that Bae always had his inhaler with him and knew how to use it. That fateful day Bae had been stung by a bee. He had used his inhaler, but as it turned out he was allergic to bees. Apparently Milah couldn’t be bothered to take him to the hospital. Their son had died gasping for air as his so called mother watched t.v. Would it have made a difference if they had stayed married? He doubted it. 

***  
Rumi sipped at his scotch as he stared off at nothing in particular. His thoughts couldn’t seem to shake the image of Belle French standing in his doorway wide eyed and eager. He knew of her, at least as much as the rest of the town. Her reputation was second only to his own, but he suspected that her story, like his own, was far more complicated than the petty gossip the local harpies peddled in. There was something different about her… he couldn’t name it, but he knew she wouldn’t be like the previous applicants. Whether this difference would be good or bad, he couldn’t say. 

As it turned out Belle was a very hard worker. She was diligent, thoughtful, and needed very little supervision to accomplish the tasks that Rumi set forth for her. She kept the shop clean, the antiquities inventory up to date, transcribed documents for the legal work he did on the side, and typed up his rental agreements. Rumi was amazed at just how bright Belle was and how eager to please. It overwhelmed him a bit just how easy it was to fall into a comfortable routine with her. Every employee he had hired previously had jumped ship before close of business the Friday of their first week and here they were approaching the month mark without a hitch, and he had tried to keep her at arm's length; he still felt a bit guilty for the day he had made her spend digging through the dumpster behind the shop looking for a paper SHE must have thrown out only to find it under a stack of papers on HIS desk. He had expected her to be furious with him when he walked out to the back alley way to call off the search, but the poor thing covered in grimy sweat and stinking to the high heavens had simply sighed happily before announcing, "What a relief! I would have been devastated if I had accidently thrown out an important document!"

Rumi didn't have the heart to tell her that it was only an invoice that could have easily been replaced had he been willing to make a phone call.

For the first time in a very long time Rumi felt drawn to someone. He found himself thinking of Belle throughout the day, noticing little things about her, wondering at her likes and dislikes. He desperately wanted to know her and even more disconcerting, he wanted her to know him. 

He felt like a fool at first. How do people start conversations? He should know how to do this! He talks to people all the time about business matters, but he can’t remember the last time he actually talked to someone simply to hear them speak and know their thoughts. 

He decided to start with the things he had noticed about her as talking points and go from there.  
“Are you cold?”

Belle nearly jumped from her desk at the sound of his voice. “Oh! Umm, you needn’t worry about it Mr. Gold. I suspect I must have poor circulation or something because I’m just about always cold.”

Rumi’s brow furrowed at her answer. Surely that was not normal, why hadn’t she seen a doctor?

“I’ve noticed that you skip lunch. Is there a reason for that?”

Belle began to worry at her lip, “Well…I…umm, I just don’t get very hungry. I bring a thermos of tea every day.”

Rumi nodded, “I’ve noticed, but tea while delicious and good for you, is not sufficient as a primary source of nutrition.”

Belle didn’t know what to say. Was he worried about her timecard? On paper she took lunch. Was it important that she leave the shop during that time? But before she could formulate and word a question, Rumi spoke.

“From now on you’ll be eating lunch with me. You may continue to bring you thermos if you desire, but I will provide lunch.”

Belle was gob smacked. “That really isn’t necessary Mr. Gold.”

“Nonsense. You are an investment Ms. French. Nutrition is an important component of health, and I need you healthy.” With that said, Mr. Gold awkwardly shrugged and headed to his private office. 

Belle didn’t know what to think of the exchange. Mr. Gold was turning out to be quite different from the man that the people of Storybrooke painted him to be, but then Belle wasn’t what they believed her to be either. 

On her way home she thought back over her exchange with Mr. Gold. She was beginning to suspect that there was a whole other person hiding beneath the surface persona of her employer just waiting to be discovered. Belle smiled to herself. Belle was a sucker for a good mystery. 

***  
As time went on Mr. Gold became more relaxed around Belle. They shared lunch together every day, always something Rumi had made himself and it was always gourmet. Belle couldn’t help but let her enjoyment of their lunches shine through in her face and voice every day as they ate together. 

Rumi came alive when he was with Belle. That first lunch had been a bit bumpy, but by the end of it they were on a first name basis with each other. 

“Dig in Miss French.”

“Do you think you could call me Belle? Miss French is very formal and since we work together…”

“Of course, Belle.” Rumi couldn’t help but smile. Her name suited her so perfectly. 

“Might I be allowed to refer to you by your first name as well?” When he didn’t immediately answer Belle joked, “or will I have to guess it?

Rumi chuckled, “You can try my dear, but you will never guess correctly.”

Belle smirked, “Ooo, I love a challenge. I feel like the miller’s daughter. Oh! Your first initial is R…your name wouldn’t happen to be Rumplestiltskin would it?”

Rumi smiled, “It would not, however my name could be considered to be as unique.”

Belle sighed, “Couldn’t you just tell me?”

Rumi blushed a bit before whispering, “Rumi.”

“Rumi. I’ve never heard that name before.”

“Apparently he was my mother’s favorite poet.”

“Apparently?”

“She died when I was very young. I don’t remember her.”

“Oh.” Belle didn’t know what to say. “May I call you Rum?”

“I’d like that.”

It had surprised Rumi how easily he gave her his name. It had been a well-kept secret ever since he came to Storybrooke. Mr. Gold had become his armor; he was a hardened business man that no one dared to bother, while Rumi was the poor boy with a lifetime of heartache. Rumi couldn’t explain his feelings for Belle. They were like the ones he felt for Bae, but different somehow in a way that he couldn’t define. 

They began to share their lives with each other, their trials and tribulations as well as the happy achievements. Rum surprised himself by just how much he was willing to share with Belle. With her he was an open book, as she was with him. It was liberating, but at the same time it was frightening. 

***  
Belle was falling in love with Rum. She had tried to deny it seven ways to Sunday, but she knew it down to the very marrow in her bones to be true. For the first time since she had lost her mother she felt that there was someone in the world that cared for her, someone who wanted to be with her not because of what she could do or offer. For the first time she felt like she was enough, but still she struggled. 

She still lived at home, unable to find a place to rent that she could afford. Her father remained his drunk, verbally abusive self. It seemed there was nothing that she could do to win his favor. She had been so proud of her first pay check, to finally have money that was her own and no one else’s. Previously she had always worked for her father, which she still seemed to be doing because he couldn’t seem to handle caring for himself let alone a business, but she was never paid for her work. She had always felt that working for the family business, keeping house, handling the finances, and being the dutiful daughter was something she must do. Her father had always insured that she felt that his love and support, what very little he gave, were conditional things that could be pulled away from her at any minute. And though she knew that she would probably be better off on her own, she couldn’t bear the thought of it. 

So she held her tongue and handed over her hard earned money when her father demanded it in a drunken rage. She listened to his hurtful tirade about how disappointing she is, how selfish she is, how her mother would be ashamed to see the way she treats her father. She let him finish as the pressure with in her built to the point that she felt she may explode, all the while keeping her emotions bottled as she gripped her hands so tightly that her nails drew blood on her palms. She cried as she cut herself that night in her room. She had thought she was getting better. She hadn’t hurt herself in over three weeks and now here she was back where she started. She took her cutting kit out of a shoe box from under her bed. She ran her fingers over the seal of the plastic sandwich bag. Her hands shook. She knew she should put it back, she should keep trying, but still she put the bag in her purse ready to take to work tomorrow and sobbed herself to sleep in a ball in the floor of her room. 

***  
Belle hadn’t slept much that night. She was tired and it showed in the bags under her eyes and her worn out expression. Rumi suspected that something must have happened over the weekend that had upset her, but he didn’t know how to ask her about it. Perhaps he could get her to mention it at lunch. Lunch! He had forgotten it at home. 

“Belle, I’m going to stop by home for a while. I’ll be back soon. Call if you need.”

Belle nodded and Rumi quickly made his way out of the shop. No sooner had he left Belle’s phone rang. Belle could see from the caller I.D. that it was her father. Belle took a deep breath.  
“Hi Papa.”

“Belle I’ve just gotten off of the phone with Gary. He says you aren’t taking his calls. What the hell is wrong with you Belle!”

Belle took a deep breath, “I don’t love him Papa. I’ve told you and I’ve told him. There is nothing more to discuss.”

Moe was furious and his tone showed it, “The hell there isn’t! You live under my roof and you will do as I say! I don’t care if you love that boy! You are marrying him in a three months whether you like it or not!”

“You can’t tell me who to marry Papa!”

“It’s not like you are ever going to find someone else! Who would want you? Even Gary’s not thrilled with the idea of being married to you. Honestly you’re lucky I convinced Mrs. Gaston to take you.”

“What do you mean Mrs. Gaston?” Belle sensed there was more going on then she knew and she had a feeling that the truth would be more upsetting then what she already knew. 

Moe gulped audibly. He knew that he had given away a bit too much, but sensing that he had nothing to lose he gambled on sharing some of his plan with Belle in the hopes that she would see the importance of her union with Gary. 

“Okay Belle. I’ll be upfront with you. Gary’s father died recently as you know, and he was quite rich as well you know. What you probably don’t know is that he valued his family lineage highly, so much so that his will states that Gary has exactly one year to marry and produce evidence that he has impregnated his wife with an heir. If the heir is male, he inherits all of his father’s fortune. If it’s female he has three more years to produce proof of a male heir, but if he doesn’t then the fortune goes to his cousin.” 

Belle was furious, “This is all a scam?!”

“Don’t think of it that way. The deal is that you and Gary will have a pre-nup stating that when he divorces you, you get ten percent of his inheritance and give up claim to his heir.”

“When he divorces me! You were going to sell off my virginity and give away my baby?!” Belle was beginning to hyperventilate. She couldn’t believe what she was hearing. Her father was more of a monster than she knew. 

“They are going to give me a hundred thousand dollars Belle! I could finally get out of debt, sell the business, and retire.” 

“What about me Papa? What about my future?” Belle was on the verge of sobbing. She felt as if the world was closing in around her, stealing her air. 

Moe’s end was quiet for a moment before he gruffly ended the conversation with an ultimatum that he felt sure would put her in her place. “You will marry him Belle and you will give him a child or you are no daughter of mine. I’ll throw you out, and you and I both know you’ll never survive on the streets.” With that said he hung up. 

Belle was shaking as she reached for her purse and lurched for the bathroom. She didn’t even shut the door she just sat her purse on the edge of the sink and began to rummage furiously for her anti-anxiety meds. Her hands were shaking so badly that she caused the purse to tumble to the floor spilling its contents like a waterfall before thumping to the ground. Belle screeched in frustration and pulled at her hair as she fell to her knees and grabbed the bottle of pills. By some miracle she was able to remove the proper dose and get herself to swallow it with the aid of a handful of water from the tap. 

The pressure building beneath the surface of her skin was threatening to rip her apart. She needed a distraction. She hastily undid the buttons of her cardigan and pulled it off. She sat down on the cool tile floor in her dark blue skirt and light blue camisole. Fumbling she wrapped her fingers around the sandwich bag filled with gauze, medical tape, and ointment. To the unknowing observe it might look like a makeshift first aid kit, but the small razors removed from pencil sharpeners and the solitary box cutter blade stored in an empty mint tin within the bag revealed its true purpose. 

Belle selected one of the sharpener blades and contemplated the location she would cut. So many scars decorated her arms. So many reminders of her demons and sorrows. After a moment of thought she shed her high heels and dark tights, lifted her skirt and lowered the blade to her thigh. 

***  
Rumi had retrieved the lunch in record time and had even taken a minute to trim one of his prized roses to bring to Belle in the hopes that they might brighten her day. But when he returned he was surprised to see that Belle was not at her desk in the front of the shop. Her chair was turned over and papers from the top of her desk had blown on to the floor. Rumi could feel his worry building in the pit of his stomach. Perhaps she was ill? What if she had passed out? Rumi made his way to the bathroom in the backroom and noticed that Belle’s lipstick and compact appeared to have rolled out of the bathroom and on to the backroom floor. Seeing the door open, Rumi approached and the sight before him was like a punch to the gut. 

Belle stopped as soon as she noticed Rumi in the doorway. From her spot on the floor he appeared incredibly imposing. Belle began to babble out an explanation, but there wasn’t one. There was no way that she could think of to explain what had happened and what she was doing without proving to him that she really was everything the people in town believed her to be. 

Rumi dragged his eyes down her and his heart ached. She was so disheveled. Her hair in her face and her makeup a mess, and the scars. He had heard that she had tried to kill herself, though he didn’t know how much of the gossip was to be believed, but it was apparent from the sheer number of scars on her arms and thighs that she was in pain and had been for years. Rumi sensed that she needed a distraction and that pain was her distraction of choice. Without stopping to think through his actions or evaluate them too closely he spoke in a calm, clear voice, “Pick the items up, return them to the plastic bag, and hand it over.” 

There was something about the tone and the way he asked that let Belle know that it was a command and not a request. She quickly did as he asked and handed over her cutting kit. 

“Go to my desk in the back room. Stand beside it and wait for me.”

Again it was clear that this was a command, and Belle complied quickly and without comment. Rumi threw the plastic bag in the trash as he made his way to his desk. Belle instinctually hid her arms behind her back and moved her lips as if to speak, but no sound came out. She had no idea what to say. 

To her shock, Rumi reached out and placed his hands on her shoulders. Their warm weight had a calming effect on her and she could feel herself begin to relax a bit. His hands began to slowly trail down her arms, his fingers pushing gently on the back of her arms as he went guiding them up. At last he had her arms exposed and positioned out to her sides like the wings of an angel. 

“Is it that sometimes the pain inside has to come to the surface?”

Belle sucked in a shaky breath, “yes”.

“Mmm. And when you see evidence of the pain inside, you finally feel that it is real?”

“Yes.”

“Then when you watch the wound heal, slowly over time, it is, comforting, isn’t it?”

“Yes.” Belle’s voice quivered. How did he seem to know exactly how she felt? How was he able to see her soul?

“Belle, you will not do this anymore. You will no longer mutilate, mar, or damage yourself. It is in the past.”

Belle could hear the command in his words. It wasn’t the first time that someone had spoken them to her, something similar any way, but it was the first time that she wanted to truly obey them. She had fallen in love with Rum, and she knew that he cared for her. She cared what he thought of her and she couldn’t bear the thought of letting him down. So she swallowed and answered, “yes.”

Rumi knew that it would not be so simple to stop Belle from mutilating herself. It had become a sort of addiction to her, a mental crutch. He would need to help her to find safer alternatives. He had a plan to do it, but he was incredibly nervous as to how she would react. He took a deep breath. 

“Now then, I think that a punishment is in order for you having taken a break without my permission.”

Belle was confused. His eyes were pleading and his tone told her that though his words were spoken as a statement, there was an unspoken question behind them. “If you believe it’s necessary.”

Rumi’s voice quavered a bit as he continued, “Oh I do. I think…perhaps…a spanking is in order.”

Belle’s eyes blew wide. He couldn’t be serious…could he?

“Pull down your panties and bend over the desk Ms. French. Unless of course you would rather scrub the floor?” His eyes were questioning. Belle felt safe going forward with his plan. She wanted this. She wasn’t sure what that said about her, but she knew she needed to relieve the building pressure within and she knew that he would never hurt her or force her to do something she didn’t want to do. This wasn’t a command, it was a request to proceed and Belle answered it by facing the desk, pulling down her panties, and bending over. 

Rumi was momentarily flummoxed. They were actually doing this. He lifted her skirt up onto her back and felt his breath hitch at the sight of her pert bottom. “Let’s see how you handle five. Count them.”

Smack! Belle gasped.

“You’re not counting.” Smack!

“One.” Smack! “Two.” Smack! “Three.” Smack! “Ahh, four!” Smack! “F-five!”

Belle was breathing heavily against the cool wood of the desk, her breath creating a mist on its smooth surface. Rumi leaned over her and retrieved a bottle of lotion from his desk drawer. Belle felt his warm body pressed against her as he leaned forward, oh how she wished he would stay there with his body against hers, but he pulled away. He warmed the lotion in his hands and then began to smooth it over her bright red bottom. Belle bit back a moan at his touch. The cool relief of the lotion on her sore, overheated skin was wonderful. 

All too soon he reached down to where her panties were pooled around her feet and gently began to ease them back up her legs and return them to their rightful place. For a moment he let his hands rest on her hips and Belle couldn’t help but lean her head back toward his chest, but all too soon his hands were on her shoulders once more and he softly whispered in her ear, “Perhaps that sore bottom of yours will help you to focus.”

Belle smiled blissfully, “I’m sure it will Mr. Gold.”  
Belle returned to her desk in the front of the shop, relishing the exquisite soreness she felt as she took her seat. She had never felt this way before. She supposed she should be outraged. She should feel humiliated, but she didn’t. She felt… loved, cared for, and most importantly relief. The pressure was gone, and in its place were pleasant thoughts of Rum.

***  
Rumi faced his desk until he was sure that Belle had returned to her desk, he then made a beeline for the bathroom. He carefully shut and locked the door behind him. What the hell had he been thinking?!

He had become aroused as he had watched her beautiful bottom turn a lovely shade of pink and it troubled him. There was nothing sexual about what they had just done, he was simply offering comfort to a friend, he told himself as he tried to calm himself down. He splashed cool water onto his face and finally felt himself relax. He picked up Belle’s forgotten cardigan, tights, shoes and purse. He gathered the spilled contents and returned them to her bag before unlocking and opening the door. He sat them on the backroom couch and made his way to the sink. 

Rumi took a deep breath. He would push the memory out of his mind. He retrieved a vase from under the sink and filled it with water. Making his way back to the front of the shop, he retrieved the rose he had brought for Belle and placed the bloom within it. 

Belle had tried to set her mind back on work, and she had just started to regain her focus when Rumi stopped in front of her desk. She looked up at him just in time to see him produce a vase with a perfect red roses seemingly from thin air. 

“Here. If you’ll have it.”

Belle smiled from ear to ear, “No one has ever given me flowers before.” She spoke in a reverent voice as she took the vase from his hand, sniffing the roses intoxicating aroma before setting it on her desk.

Rumi gazed at her in a way that conveyed a hopeful sadness, “Well then, I will have to endeavor to make sure that this is just the first of many.” He extended his hand to her, “I think perhaps we should take our lunch to the park today. The fresh air will do us both good.”

Belle took his hand gratefully.

***  
Rumi took her to a somewhat secluded area of the park on the edge of the forest and they ate their lunch on a worn wool blanket in the shade of a tree whose leaves were beginning to turn shades of red and orange. Belle closed her eyes and took a deep breath. The air was crisp and the sound of the breeze through the leaves was like music. Winter was coming and Belle dreaded it.  
Rumi’s voice cut through Belle’s darkening thoughts, “Something happened while I was out. What was it?”

Belle sighed, “It’s complicated.”

Rumi scooted closer, “Try me.”

Belle closed her eyes as she began to speak, “My father called.” They had spoken about her father before and Rumi knew that her father drank heavily and was often unreasonable and ill tempered. “He made a deal with the Gaston family.”

Rumi nodded, undoubtedly her father was once again in financial trouble. Rumi expected to hear that he had lost them their home, business, or van. “What are the Gaston’s offering him?”

Belle looked up at him with tired eyes, “They’re giving him one hundred thousand dollars.”

That took him off guard somewhat. What would Moe French have that was worth that much, yet he was willing to part with? “In return for?”

Belle’s lip quivered and she squeezed her eyes shut willing herself not to cry. 

Rumi reached out to her, and as she leaned into his embrace he positioned her so that she was cradled in his arms. “It’s just us Belle. You can cry if you need to. There is no shame in it.”

With that said, Belle buried her head against his chest and sobbed quietly as Rumi rocked her back and forth.

Belle finally began to speak as she tried her best not to gulp for air. “Oh Rum! He…he’s going to…he sold away my virginity and my first born son!” Belle sobbed. 

Rumi was in shock. Did he hear her right? How dare he! He’s her father! Thoughts of his own father drifted to the forefront of his mind. Moe French and Malcolm Gold were like two peas in a pod. Rumi’s nose flared in anger as he held Belle close.

Belle’s sobs began to subside somewhat. She looked up at Rumi with sorrowful eyes, “It just feels so unreal. One of my favorite stories growing up was the story of the miller’s daughter, and now I’m living it. Oh god! I understand how she felt now, how she truly felt.”

“Don’t think on it Belle. I won’t let anyone make you do something you don’t want to.” The fierceness of his words had the ring of truth, but how could he protect her? 

“But if I don’t do as he says he’ll throw me out. I can’t live on the streets, all alone in the dark. It will kill me Rum.”

“He told you he’d throw you out?”

Belle nodded sadly. “And I don’t doubt it. He can be…rough, when he’s drunk.”

Rumi felt his anger burn at his chest. He spoke through gritted teeth, “Rough? Has he ever hurt you Belle?”

Belle’s lip quivered once more as she nodded and buried her head into his chest once more. 

Rumi held her close and kissed her head. “You are coming to live with me.” His words were forceful and left no room for arguing. 

Rumi had his associate, an imposing man by the name of Dove, meet them at Belle’s house. Rumi introduced Dove to Belle as the man to call when you need something done. Dove smiled down at Belle saying, “I consider myself a doer Miss French. Mr. Gold wants something done and I do it.”

Dove stood watch at the front door while Rumi assisted Belle in packing up her things. Moe should still be at work for a few hours and Belle hoped that they would be done by then. She quickly retrieved a few garbage bags from the kitchen and before long the contents of all her drawers and closet were emptied into bags and loaded into the trunk and backseat of Rumi’s black Cadillac. 

Belle returned to the house and retrieved an empty cardboard box from the closet. She carefully filled it with the few books she owned, trinkets she had collected, framed pictures and photo albums, and finally her teapot and favorite cup. 

With her things all packed, Belle left a hastily written note explaining that no one would decide her fate but her and that she had moved out because her father had made it abundantly clear that she was not wanted. 

Belle looked back at her childhood home one last time through the back window of the black Cadillac. Belle felt anxious and uncertain, but she also felt free.

***  
Belle quickly came to love living with Rumi and it was obvious that he loved having her with him. He smiled more and it put a smile on Belle’s face to know that she had been the one to put it there. 

Belle felt like her life was on its way to getting back on track. She felt loved, and more importantly she felt as if she mattered to someone. 

Rumi had set ground rules for Belle when she moved in, but they were rules that she was more than happy to follow. He asked that she wake up at a regular time and have a nutritious breakfast with him. He made sure she ate regular meals, he took her on walks, made sure she brushed her teeth and flossed, and checked to make sure that she set her medicine out for the week and took it. Every rule he set out for her was like a declaration of love as far as Belle was concerned. 

However, there were still times that Belle struggled. She would find her mind drifting into the fog of depression and the self-depreciating comments would sound in her ears. Memories she didn’t want to think about would play out in her mind with brilliant colors and noise, so much noise. It was too loud! Why couldn’t she silence the thoughts? She would feel the urge build then, the need for pain. At first Rumi had been obliging, but as time passed he became distant. He seemed to be avoiding her and she didn’t know why. She needed his support so badly and now it seemed she had lost it. Perhaps she truly was worthless, unwanted…

Then there had been the messages from her father. She no longer took his calls, but she couldn’t keep herself from listening to the voice mail messages he left. Perhaps it was some misguided hope that he would wake up one day and love her that kept her from cutting him off, Belle wasn’t sure. She steeled her nerves as best she could, took a deep breath and listened. 

They were every bit as bad as she feared and then some. Her father had run the gamut in his attempts to regain control over her. He begged, “Please Belle! I need you.” He had tried to guilt her, “Your mother would be ashamed of you! A good daughter would want her father taken care of!” He tried scaring her, “I’ll send you back to the hospital if you don’t come back! I’ll have you locked away where you’ll never see the light of day!” He had then resorted to what he did best, making her feel as insignificant as possible. “You horrid child! You’ve ruined yourself! No one will ever want you, the crazy girl who isn’t right in the head. Your disgusting to look at. Gold will tire of you eventually, he’ll see you for what you really are and you’ll be out on the streets with nothing!” That message had sent her into a tailspin she was afraid she may never come out of. She couldn’t breathe. She wanted to rip her skin off. She clawed at herself and pulled at her hair. 

Still, Belle tried to hold out. She would spank herself with her hairbrush while focusing on thoughts of Rumi, but the more she thought of him the more her thoughts told her that she was worthless and that was why Rumi had pushed her away. She looked at herself in the mirror with disgust. You are monstrous. Ugly, unlovable, unwanted, worthless… But she continued to hope that he cared for her, that she could overcome her urges, but on a Tuesday night as she sat at her desk in the front of the shop and tried to finish up the pile of work that was slowly building up on her, she lost the last thin threads of control she still had. She grew cold as she pulled open her desk and traced her fingers on the cool metal of the silver scissors within. 

It was all becoming too much for Belle. Rumi could see the need pouring off of her in the way she held herself as if she was coming apart, her despondency, how she would claw at herself and tear at her hair from time to time. Rumi knew that if he didn’t help her she may come undone and fall back on old habits, giving up all the progress she had gained. He took a deep breath. You can do it. Calm your thoughts and focus on the task. There is nothing sexual about what you are doing. Rumi repeated these thoughts as a mantra as he reached out for Belle. She glanced up at him with red rimmed eyes as he helped her to her feet and took her into his arms. She clung to him like a terrified child. He soothed her with his calm, assured voice. “It will be alright sweetheart. Everything will turn out alright.” 

“Please Rum. I know you said no more, but…please.” Belle’s voice was broken and sorrowful as she pleaded for him to help her find the release that pain provided her.

Rumi nodded and held Belle out so he could see her face. “Back room. Panties down. Bend over my desk.”

 

Belle gratefully assumed the position as Rumi rolled up his sleeves. “Tell me when it is enough.” Rumi began to spank Belle with a firm hand. He could feel his arousal building within him and he fought to hold it back. He tried to ignore the feel of her skin, the warmth of his hand, the smell of her own arousal…he told himself it was wrong to feel this way, but then she moaned and he was lost. His erection strained painfully against the fabric of his pants. He stumbled away from her and made his way to the bathroom as quickly as he could. 

Belle could feel the tension within her melting away with every delicious smack of his hand on her skin. Her thoughts drifted away from the forefront of her mind, leaving only the sensations of the moment. The world melted away leaving only him and her. She felt safe with him, cared for, and protected. His strong hands on her body felt like compliments. He made her feel precious and treasured, like he saw beneath her unfinished surface to the diamond within. But all too soon his hands were gone and she heard him lurch toward the bathroom. Belle stepped out of the panties pooled around her ankles and made her way to him. 

As she approached the slightly open door she heard him grunt within. She pushed the door open further and the sight it revealed took her breath away and sent her heart to fluttering. He was standing over the toilet, his left hand pressed against the wall for support and his right coiled around his member firmly. Belle’s eyes grew large and lustful as she saw spirts of white coat his hand.

Rumi moaned as he felt his release at hand. As he came he immediately felt the tension sitting on his chest lift, only for it to be replaced with appalled self-loathing. Oh god, what had he done. How could he have found enjoyment from inflicting pain on another. He had become what he hated. He was no different than his father or Milah. What if his cruelty, his sadism, led to hurting Belle? Really hurting her? He could never live with himself. He needed to end this. He needed to send her away. To set her free. He wiped his hands clean with tissue and turned to use the sink only to come face to face with Belle. She had seen it all, his shame, his degrading of her. She should hate him. She should spit in his face and storm out, he deserved it and expected it. What he didn’t expect was the look of awestruck love on her face, or the way she would move toward him as if in a dream, or her delicate fingers brushing the hair from his eyes. 

No! He had to end this, for her own good. Rumi put his hand out, keeping Belle at arm’s length, “This…this was a mistake. I’m so sorry…I…you…”

Belle shushed him. “This isn’t a mistake, none of it. I love you Rumi. I’ve known it for a while now and I dared to hope that you might come to love me too. I worried when you pushed me away that I had done something wrong, that I had made you hate me, but now I see that…well I hope that you love me, at least lust for me. 

Rumi was on the verge of crying as he shook his head, “This is wrong Belle. I enjoyed spanking you…I…I’m a monster. I do love you Belle, but you deserve better. I’ll end up hurting you some day. You have to go.”

Belle felt a strength within her that she had thought long lost. He loved her, that was all that mattered. She would prove her love for him. Her trust of him. “I trust you Rum. I know that you would never purposely hurt me. After the first time…when you spanked me that day you found me in this bathroom, a mess on the floor, I did some research. The spanking didn’t just help me to let go of my emotional pain, it felt…good. It made me feel wonderful. I found out that there are others out there who are…,” Belle turned a bright shade of red, “aroused by being spanked and some that are aroused by spanking someone. Preferably someone they love.” Belle looked into Rumi’s eyes hopefully.

Rumi looked like he was about to vomit, “Like BDSM? You think that we should have that kind of relationship?!”

Why was he acting this way? What was so appalling about a consensual relationship that both parties enjoyed? Belle felt dread begin to snake its hold around her chest. He was disgusted with her. He had come to see her through the same lens as the rest of the world, as a freakish monster. No. He had said he loved her, he must be afraid of hurting her. Belle couldn’t imagine Rumi ever losing control like that. She remembered her surprise when she saw that he used no kill traps to catch the mice that sometimes invaded his home. He had given them cheese and celery before releasing them in the forest. There was no way that he could hurt her. He needed to see that she was strong. That she would be right there with him as his partner. She would just have to show him that she was serious. “I want a relationship with a partner who can be my dominant. Someone who will stand by me, guide me, hold me, and occasionally scold me. I want someone that I can depend on, and I really want that person to be you.”

Rumi couldn’t believe what he was hearing. Belle couldn’t possibly want a BDSM relationship. Obviously she was confused, after all how could she want a relationship where she was a slave to a master who gets his kicks from beating her? Well, he would show her. “You really want someone to boss you around? Okay, go to my desk. Sit down. Feet flat on the ground and hands flat on the desk in front of you.”

Rumi made it clear that his words were a command, and Belle was quick to follow. She dutifully sat as instructed as Rumi followed her out of the bathroom. Rumi made his face like cold stone as he watched her take the position he had commanded. He was angry, whether at himself or Belle he wasn’t sure, but he was sure that he would make her see her folly. “If you want me to be your dominant you need to prove to me that you deserve to be my subordinate. You will stay in that position until I tell you that you may move. Is that understood?”

Belle simply nodded her understanding. Rumi huffed, turning on his heel he gathered up his things and locked up the shop with Belle inside. He would leave her there and eventually she would see that he was an ass and wasn’t coming back and would give up on her ridiculous ideas. Rumi assured himself that she wouldn’t make the night as he made his way into his Victorian home. 

His home seemed cold now, darker, as if it’s heart was gone. Worry wormed its way into Rumi’s thoughts. When Belle gave up she would need some place to go. Would she come home? Surely she wouldn’t go back to her father. Rumi pulled out his phone and made a call to Dove. He explained the situation somewhat and asked that Dove keep a watch on the shop and that should Belle leave he should take her to the empty apartment that he owned in Storybrooke clock tower. Rumi put together a box of clothing and various necessities and told Dove that it was ready in the foyer should Belle need it for a few nights until her things could be moved. 

***  
That night Rumi didn’t sleep. His thoughts were like static, and trying to make sense of them only left him with a headache. He found himself opening a bottle of whiskey. 

The next thing he knew it was four in the afternoon on Wednesday. No doubt Belle was already settled into the apartment. Rumi rubbed his head feeling more than a little nauseous. He unsteadily made his way to the bathroom and hastily drank a couple of glasses of water and took two asprin before dragging his uncooperative body in to his darkened bedroom and collapsing on his bed. 

The next time Rumi awoke he felt much clearer headed and only slightly nauseous. He glanced at the clock on his bedside table. It was just after one in the afternoon. Rumi sighed. He took a shower and threw on clothes. His usual polished appearance abandoned, he dragged himself looking disheveled and unshaven downstairs and to the kitchen. He drank a glass of water and as he did so he noticed Belle’s favorite teacup on the counter. She must hate me now. Rumi found himself sinking to the floor as his pitiful crying began to shake his lean frame. He missed her. Oh god he missed her! Her smile, voice, smell, touch… No! You don’t deserve her. She will forget you and move on as she should. But he found that these thoughts didn’t help, if anything they made him feel that much worse. 

Rumi had cried himself to sleep only to have nightmares shake him awake. He would lay in the dark and cry once more until sleep would again find him. At last he made his way downstairs Friday night having spent the whole day in bed. He was planning to start the cycle again with a bottle of scotch when he noticed the box he had packed for Belle sitting where he had left it in the foyer. He stared at it for a moment in confusion before calling Dove. “Why did you not retrieve the box I set aside for Belle?” To Rumi’s disbelief and dismay Dove relayed that as far as he could tell, Belle had not yet left the shop. Rumi hung up the phone, nearly dropping it in the process. Oh no, what if… Rumi cursed himself as he struggled to his computer and logged into the security camera in the shop as fast as he could. She had been suicidal before, if she hurt herself because of him, if his careless stunt of abandoning her led her to take her life it would wreck him. He would just have to be buried right along with her because he couldn’t carry that guilt. 

After what seemed like an eternity of torture the camera image from the back room filled his screen to reveal that Belle was exactly where he had left her except she was now slumped on the desk, her face hidden from view. Rumi could feel himself beginning to hyperventilate as he changed the timestamp to just after he left her and set the feed to fast forward. He watched in a mixture of amazement and horror as the video revealed that Belle had stayed in exactly the position he had commanded her to the entire time. Rumi looked at the time and date at the corner of his computer screen, six p.m. Friday. He had left her there on Tuesday afternoon…

An urgent knock at the door brought Rumi out of his horrified stupor. 

Dr. Hopper stood impatiently on the other side of the door and not caring one way or the other if he was welcomed, pushed through the door past a surprised Rumi and into the foyer. 

“Mr. Gold I need to speak with you urgently about Miss French.”

“I don’t have time I have to get to her! Wait…”  
All irritation left Rumi as he heard Belle’s name, “What’s happened?”

“Nothing yet, and hopefully nothing will. As you know I’m her therapist and technically I shouldn’t be speaking to you about this, but it came to my attention through another patient who happens to work for Mrs. Gaston that Belle is in danger.”

Rumi had to hold himself back from shaking the good doctor. “What danger?”

Apparently Mrs. Gaston has convinced her dimwitted son and Mr. French to kidnap Belle and have her put back under Dr. D’Arque’s care at the hospital and Mrs. Gaston is going to have Mr. French named as Belle’s conservator. The plan from there is to have Belle and Mrs. Gaston’s son married on paper. And according to my source, once the Gaston’s get the heir they desire Belle will suffer an unfortunate accident.”

Rumi was shaking with a mixture of fear and anger. “They won’t lay a hand on her! I’ll have my man Dove watch the Gastons and Mr. French. Thank you for coming to me Dr. Hopper.” Rumi made to lead him out when Dr. Hopper stopped him with a hand on his arm. 

“That won’t be enough Mr. Gold. Belle is struggling. She loves you and needs you. She needs your strength. Without you there is only so much I can do. If she doesn’t end up dead, she’ll be back in Dr. D’Arque’s care which may be an even worse fate. I don’t know if she told you much about her time in the hospital, but it was bad. I fought for months to get her out of his care. His methods are archaic. He had Belle so drugged up she was catatonic half the time and he was planning to administer ECT to her against her wishes while she was under.”

“What?! Why is he still practicing medicine?!”

“Friends in high places. He and Madam Mayor are friendly.”

Rumi’s blood boiled. Belle had been tortured and mistreated for too long. She deserved happiness, but he didn’t believe that it could ever be with him.

“Don’t you understand? I can’t be around her. I’ll hurt her! I’m a monster!” Rumi broke into a sob, hiding his face in his hands. 

Dr. Hopper having listened intently asked, “Did you ever do anything against her will?”

Rumi bored holes into him with red rimmed eyes, “I would never force myself on her.”

Dr. Hopper nodded, “Then what makes you think that you are a monster?”

Rumi’s face reflected shame, “I enjoyed hurting her. Every time I…inflicted pain I felt aroused. What kind of a person enjoys hurting others? Not a good one.”

Dr. Hopper sighed, “You say you would never force Belle to do anything, so I assume that every time you have engaged in this type of behavior it has been her idea?”

“Yes.”

“Why did you first start?”

“I wanted to protect her from herself. I knew that if I left her to her own devices she could seriously hurt herself.”

“Belle mentioned to me that you make lunch for the two of you to share every day. Why did you start doing that?”

“She wasn’t eating regularly. I worry about her.”

“So you feel protective of her?”

“Yes.”

Dr. Hopper smiled, “Well Mr. Gold, it seems to me that your actions toward Belle are coming from a loving and protective place. So I would suggest that it is more than likely that your arousal is a result of having someone dear to you submit to your protection. Belle trusts you. She submits to you because she trusts that you have her best interests at heart. You put her first and in return she submits. Belle mentioned an interest in being a part of a dom/sub relationship, did Belle speak to you about it?”

Rumi looked down shame faced, “Yes, but I told her that she didn’t know what she was asking for.”

“What do you know about the various BDSM relationships that exist?”

“It’s people treating others as slaves. It’s one person demeaning and humiliating another.”

Dr. Hopper sighed, “BDSM is at its heart a relationship in which one party is more dominant than the other, but this relationship can take countless forms. In Belle’s case, she is looking for someone who can take away the stresses that are weighing her down. She wants a protector who will bring strict structure to her life. She wants a dominant partner who will make decisions for her benefit so that she need not stress over them. Does that sound like something you would be willing to do for her?”

Understanding glowed behind Rumi’s eyes. Belle was right. There was nothing unnatural about the way he felt toward Belle. “That is exactly what I have been doing already.”

“Then I suggest you keep doing it. Be her protector, her mentor, her lover. Be what she wants and needs you to be and don’t feel guilty for being happy right along with her. I don’t know much about you Mr. Gold, but it seems to me that it has been a long time since you had someone to care for who loved you for it. You deserve love, as does Belle, so don’t shut her out.” 

But shut her out was exactly what he had done. How long had she been sitting alone in the cold and dark? Three days. She had been sitting in that chair for three days without moving. His words had been as good as chains. Then dread came crashing down on Rumi, Belle hadn’t eaten or drank anything in three days. Rumi grabbed Dr. Hopper about the shoulders and urgently asked, “How long can someone go without water?”

Dr. Hopper looked confused, “About three days.”

Rumi felt his world tilt. What had he done? “Belle hasn’t had water in three days.”

Dr. Hopper immediately looked concerned. Rumi gave a quick explanation of what had happened between he and Belle. Dr. Hopper nodded, “She’ll need fluids immediately. I’ll get what’s needed for an I.V. drip and meet you at your shop. Try to get her to drink until I get there.”

“Meet me at the back entrance of the shop!”

Dr. Hopper rushed off as Rumi grabbed his own keys and followed him out. 

As he sped for the shop, Rumi thought of Bae. He had been the light and love of his life. He had wanted nothing more than to protect Bae from the world. He hadn’t been able to protect Bae, but he would protect Belle. He couldn’t lose her, not now, not ever. 

Rumi pulled up to the back of the shop and quickly unlocked the shop’s back door. Stumbling and calling out to Belle in the dim light of the shop he made his way to his desk. She was unresponsive as he gently brushed the hair from her face and eased her head back so that he could get a good look at her. She was pale and withered with sunken eyes closed in unconsciousness. 

“Belle! Sweetheart I’m here! Wake up!” Rumi began to cry once more as his pleading and shaking produced no response. He pulled the chair back carefully and felt bile threaten his throat when he saw the puddle of cold urine beneath it. He had become the monster he had feared he already was. He had dangled his love like a carrot and then left her to be humiliated. He cursed himself. He should have known better! Belle has issues with abandonment and trust as it is and now he has only proven that he is just as untrustworthy as everyone else in her life. I’ll make it up to her, every second of every day she will feel loved and protected. 

Rumi lifted Belle into his arms and sat her down on the floor against the wall. He rushed to the sink and hastily filled a glass with cool water. He returned to Belle’s side setting the glass down carefully nearby, he positioned her between his legs and leaned her head back on his shoulder. “You need to drink sweetheart. Okay? Please try for me.” He hoped that she might still be able to hear him as he brought the glass to her lips and very slowly poured a gentle stream of water letting it trickle in to her mouth and down her throat. 

After what seemed like an eternity, Dr. Hopper came rushing into the backroom with a rolling metal pole, a tote bag, and a leather doctor’s satchel. Rumi shifted somewhat in anticipation of moving, “Should I lay her on the cot?”

Dr. Hopper shook his head as he crossed the room, “No. Her blood volume is undoubtable low due to dehydration, which means her blood pressure is also undoubtedly low. She needs to stay sitting up for now.”

Dr. Hopper swiped an alcohol pad over Belle’s inner arm and inserted an I.V. port. He then attached a saline bag and suspended it on the metal rod. He took her pulse and shook his head. “She has sat in that chair the whole time?”

Rumi nodded.

“Well, I can see that she emptied her bladder, but it doesn’t look like she evacuated her bowels. Also she has probably not taken any of her medication.” Dr. Hopper hissed under his breath, then sighed turning to Rumi, “Continue to sit with her and try to get her to drink. I’m going to stop by the pharmacy and get some medication for Belle. I’ll explain the dosages to you so that you can get her back on track, but in the meantime just know that there will be some side effects from going without it for so long.” With that Dr. Hopper turned and left quickly before Rumi could formulate his many questions. 

Rumi continued to hold Belle, slowly dribbling water into her mouth. As he looked at her his heart ached. She seemed so small, so frail. There were times when she appeared as a confident woman, so self-assured and other moments when she was a scared little girl. His mind drifted to Bae. Milah didn’t deserve him. He was a precious treasure to be protected and cherished. The courts had been wrong to grant her custody. Perhaps the universe had been wrong to let her have a child, but then he would have never had Bae and no matter how devastating the loss was he wouldn’t trade his memories of his boy for anything. It was then that a thought occurred to Rumi. Perhaps this was the universe trying to even the score. It was obvious that Belle’s father was undeserving of her, and Rumi was much better suited to give her the love and support she needs. Rumi felt his spirits lift somewhat at the thought that there might be a chance, however small that fate wanted him and Belle to be happy together. 

Rumi was brought back to the present when Belle moaned and began to shift in his arms. He began to stroke her hair and shush her softly as she blinked and struggled to make sense of her surroundings. All of a sudden her eyes settled on Rumi’s desk and she tried to lurch toward it only to fall back into Rumi’s lap panting and weak. 

Belle began to babble confusingly, “No, no, no. Chair…I can do it… I can’t lose him…no, no…bad girl, bad girl…”

Rumi tried to get Belle to focus on his face. He turned her face toward him, “Look at me Belle. Focus on my voice.”

She simply stared up at him unseeing for a moment before she whispered questioningly, “Rum?”

“Yes sweetheart, I’m here. I’ve got you.”

“Don’t leave me. Please? I’m sorry. I’ll be a good girl. I’ll do better. Don’t leave me.”

Rumi let his tears pepper her face as he shushed her, “I’ll never leave you sweetheart! You are a good girl! You are such a good, clever, kind girl! I love you precious. I love you so much.”

Belle stared up at him wonderingly, “You love me?”

He nodded fervently before kissing her forehead. 

Belle began to push the heels of her hands against her head. She moaned, the sound instantly putting Rumi on edge, “What’s wrong?”  
She moaned once more, “My head hurts so much.”

“You need water sweetheart. I’ll get you another glass and you must drink it.” He quickly refilled her glass, and kneeling beside her, placed it to her lips and tilted it slowly letting her drink. Every now and again she would sputter water up, but she managed to empty the glass and seemed much more coherent and that set Rumi at ease somewhat. 

Belle turned her head away from him all of a sudden and covered it with her hands. Rumi immediately began to nuzzle and caress her as he asked, “What’s wrong my love?” Belle shook slightly, but didn’t answer. Rumi turned her to face him and gently pried her hands from her face. “What’s wrong?”

Belle bit her lip and lowered her head in shame. “I’m filthy and now I’ve ruined your chair and the floor… I don’t blame you if you don’t want me anymore. I’m pathetic, and ugly, and worthless.”

Rumi felt anger tighten his chest like a metal band, “You are a beautiful treasure. You are MY beautiful treasure. I will always want you. Nothing will ever change that. Do you understand?”

Belle nodded. Rumi sighed as he caressed her face, “I’m so sorry precious. I didn’t think through my actions. The command I set forth for you was unfair and wrong of me. I never want you hurt or sick! Promise me that you will come to me before allowing harm to come to you! Promise me that if I ever again ask you to do something that could harm you that you will call me out on it. Please dearest?”

Belle nodded and Rumi sighed as he gently pulled her to his chest, “I never want to lose you dearest. As much as you are mine, I am yours. You hold my heart, and I couldn’t possibly live without my heart could I?”

Belle nodded against his chest, “I love you Rum. Please don’t leave me.”

“Never dearest.”

At last Dr. Hopper returned with a plastic bag from the pharmacy. He smiled at the sight of Belle as he crossed the room, “I’m glad to see you awake Belle.”

Belle turned her face, currently burrowed against Rumi’s chest, toward the voice. “Dr. Hopper…you’re not going to take me away are you?”

Rumi tightened his embrace slightly at her words.

Dr. Hopper shook his head, “I don’t see why you can’t stay with Mr. Gold, but you need to understand that what you did was dangerous and there will be consequences. It looks like your I.V. bag is empty, I don’t think you’ll need another now that you are awake. Can you drink on your own?”

Belle nodded yes. Dr. Hopper began to unhook the I.V. port and bandage her arm. He opened his medical bag and retrieved a blood pressure monitor. He took her blood pressure and noted the results before checking her alertness by having her follow his finger. He then looked to Rumi, “You need to encourage her to drink at least a few more glasses of water tonight and at least eight glasses tomorrow and the same for Sunday.”

Rumi nodded fervently, “Absolutely. Anything she needs.”

Dr. Hopper sighed uneasily, “Speaking of needs, Belle I think you would benefit from an enema since you have been holding your bowels for a few days.”

Belle moaned, “Couldn’t I just take a laxative?”

Dr. Hopper shook his head sympathetically, “Not in your dehydrated state. An enema would be safer for you.” He looked to Rumi for acceptance before adding, “If it would make you more comfortable, Mr. Gold could assist you instead of me?”

Rumi didn’t hesitate to answer, “Of course! I’ll help you sweetheart and it will all be alright.”

Belle’s lip began to wibble as she shook her head, “You won’t think I’m pretty anymore…”

Rumi stopped her verging tears with fervent kisses, “I told you sweetheart I will always love you, no matter what. Won’t you let me take care of you?”

Belle seemed unsure of his words, but she nodded yes and cuddled into his chest. 

Dr. Hopper explained the enema process to Rumi, how to ease Belle back on to her medication, and how to treat the skin that was scalded from sitting in urine. He answered all of Rumi’s questions and gave him his cell phone number urging him to call if he had any other questions or concerns. He then asked if he might speak to Rumi alone, seeing Belle’s unease he added, “Just on the other side of the room.”

Rumi assured Belle that he would be right back, then met Dr. Hopper by the back door. Dr. Hopper positioned the two of them with their backs to Belle before whispering, “There is still a chance that Mr. French and the Gastons could find a legal way to take Belle. I don’t know how you would feel about the suggestion that I’m going to make, but know that from what Belle has told me I don’t think she would refuse you.” Dr. Hopper released a breath that he hadn’t realized he was holding before whispering, “If you love her, you should marry her as soon as possible. That way your rights as her spouse would supersede Mr. French’s.” 

Rumi simply nodded as Dr. Hopper made his way out.

He made his way back to Belle, kneeling he reached out and cupped her cheek brushing his thumb over her lips, “I’m going to get you another glass of water.” He retrieved her glass and took it to the sink to fill. He returned and placed it in her still somewhat unsteady hands. “There is something I need to get from the front room. I will be right back. I promise.” Belle nodded, but he could see the fear on her face. 

He quickly made his way to the jewelry case in the front of the shop and pulled out a red velvet rectangular box and matching ring box from the hidden drawer at the bottom of the case. He smiled to himself thinking back to when he first came to own them. He had purchased a rather boring looking secretary desk that was in acceptable condition thinking that it might bring in an extra hundred dollars once he refurbished it. As he worked on the desk, one night well after hours, one of the many he had dreaded going home, he noticed a secret drawer that looked as if it hadn’t been opened in many decades. Having extensive knowledge of secret places of this kind, he quickly opened it and found the aforementioned red velvet boxes inside holding a matching set of necklace, earrings, metal hair comb, and ring. They were in excellent condition, dating back to the early Victorian era. His love of antiques wouldn’t let him break the set apart, which had ultimately led to him being unable to find a buyer, but now they would be Belle’s.

Belle’s eyes lit up as he returned to her. He stroked her hair and then placed it behind her ear, “Dear one, I love you with every fiber of my being. I want to always be with you, protect you, lead, guide, be anything you need me to be. Sweetheart, will you marry me?”

Belle stared at him as if he were an illusion, like one who has crossed a desert fears that the oasis before them is a mirage. 

Rumi held out the ring box, having placed the rest of the set in the bag that Dr. Hopper had left for him. “Don’t feel as if you have to say yes if it is not what you want. I will continue to love, support, and protect you regardless. Just know that I love you and you will always hold my heart.”

Belle reached out a tentative hand for the ring box. She shuddered as her fingers brushed the velvet of the closed box. “This is real…you…want me?”

Rumi smiled as he opened the ring box, “If you’ll have me.”

Belle stared down at the beautiful ring and thought that it must be the most exquisite in all the world. It was a brilliant yellow gold band; a solitary yellow gold rose with garnet petals sat upon the deep blue enamel cabochon setting. “It’s beautiful…”

“It’s yours.”

Belle looked up at him still afraid that the moment wasn’t real, yet she summoned up her courage and smiled weakly as she nodded yes.

Rumi smiled as he pulled the ring out of the box. “So you’ll be my wife?”

Belle gulped air as her body seemed to not know whether it wanted to laugh or cry. “Yes please!”

Rumi brought her left hand to his lips and planted a kiss on her ring finger. “We may have to have it sized.” He slid the ring on to her finger and felt his heart flutter as it fit her perfectly. “It seems it was intended for you.”

Belle was in awe. “It’s very old isn’t it.” She was certain of her words and it made Rumi happy to see that her eye for antiques was almost as good as his own. 

“Aye. It’s from the early Victorian era, and as far as I can tell by the condition in which I found it, it has never been worn.”

Belle scrunched her face in thought, “I wonder who it was intended for?”

“Perhaps fate always intended it for you. Perhaps…we were meant to be together.”

Belle placed her newly ringed hand on Rumi’s cheek, a brilliant smile upon her face. “After I moved in with you, sometimes I would dream that I was a princess being held in a dark dungeon. Just as I would fear I might never again see the sun, you would appear at the cell door. Our hands would entwine between the bars as we kissed and because it was true love, the dungeon would melt away and you would hold me.” She bit her lip as she cast her eyes down shyly, “That probably sounds silly.”

Rumi placed his hand over hers holding it to his cheek, “That doesn’t sound silly at all princess.” He smiled as he closed the gap between them and captured her mouth in a kiss. “Do you think you can stand love?” At Belle’s affirmative nod Rumi replied, “Then let’s go home, but first I want Dove to escort us. I don’t want you to worry sweetheart, I will protect you, but your father and the Gastons are planning to try to take you away from me.” He could see fear flash in her eyes as she began to shiver. “Shhhh, it will be alright. I’m right here. No one will take you anywhere you don’t want to go.” The firm certainty of his words soothed her. Once she had calmed he helped her to her feet, the movement seeming to make her dizzy. She clung to him letting him support her as he quickly called Dove and explained that he needed him to be their bodyguard for the foreseeable future. Within minutes Dove was at the back door of the shop. He and Rumi helped Belle into the black Cadillac and loaded the bag of things that Dr. Hopper had left for her. Dove tailed them home and walked them in. 

Rumi could see Belle was in pain, though she was good at hiding it from a lifetime of practice, he could see the lines around her eyes and the way she held her mouth shut. He walked her to the stairs and helped her to climb them. She still seemed unsteady on her feet. He called down to Dove to bring up her bag and a glass of water. Rumi walked her to his bedroom and into the en-suite bathroom. Belle steadied herself against the shower as Dove set the bag down nearby and handed Rumi the glass of water. “I’ll secure the house and sleep on the couch downstairs.” 

Rumi nodded, “I appreciate you doing this Dove. I know it’s late and short notice.” 

Dove waved off Rumi’s attempts to apologize, “I don’t mind Mr. Gold, after everything you’ve done for me and continue to do, it is a pleasure to work for you.”

Rumi smiled. As Dove turned to leave Rumi called out to him, “Dove, when you get a chance call Midas and tell him to draw up whatever paperwork is necessary for Belle and I to be married. It is imperative that it go through as soon as possible.”

Dove smiled, “I had wondered when I saw Miss French’s ring. Congratulations to you both.” With that Dove left the room shutting the door behind him. 

Rumi returned his attention to Belle. “Now then let’s get you cleaned up and taken care of. I think we should start with the enema first.” Belle groaned. “I know sweetheart, but it needs to be done.” Rumi retrieved a handful of towels. He helped Belle out of her soiled clothes and handed her a towel. She took it gratefully, wrapping it around her to hide as many of her scars as she could from view. Rumi frowned inwardly. He would have to convince her of his acceptance of her and the beauty he saw when he looked at her. 

He laid a large towel on the tile floor of the spacious bathroom and bid Belle to lay upon it on her side. “I’m going to fill the tub for your bath now so that it can warm the room.” Rumi started to fill the tub. He then began to prepare the enema solution. With the tub filled and the solution ready, Rumi retrieved a bottle of lubricant from a nearby cabinet. He sat it by Belle and then retrieved the extending stand from the bag and set it up hanging the bag upon it. He cleared the bubbles from the line and clamped it shut. 

“Belle, sweetheart I’m going to need you to breath slow and regular. Let me know if you are in pain or cramping alright?”

“Okay.” Belle was still in so much pain from her scalds, the headache, and stiffness from holding the same position on that hard wooden chair for three days. She dreaded any additional pain. 

“I’m going to apply lubricant to your entrance. Just try to relax.” Rumi lubed up his finger and began to massage her, his finger begging entrance, but he could feel her tightening up. “Belle, have you never…I mean have you not…” Rumi felt flustered as he tried to word his question. 

Belle sniffled as she answered in a hushed whisper, “I’m a virgin.” 

“Yes, but surely you’ve…touched yourself?” Rumi felt like a bumbling fool for asking, but he sensed the source of her discomfort might be more than just pain and he wanted to ease it if possible. 

Belle shut her eyes, her voice betraying her embarrassment, “Only over my clothes.” She quickly tried to explain worrying that he might think that something must be wrong with her. “After my mother died, I was so upset and busy…people stopped spending time with me, not that I had time to spend. I didn’t have any friends and I didn’t date.”

Rumi caressed her face kneeling to look at her, “Shhh, you don’t have to explain anything to me.”

Belle looked up at him, “When you touched me, that day in the shop after you spanked me, skin to skin as you rubbed lotion on me, that was the first time in such a very long time that I felt a loving touch. I longed for your hands to stay there, for you to lay on top of me and let me feel your breath on my neck.”

Belle’s words made Rumi insanely happy, sad, and furious all at once. She was touched starved. Her wretched father had left her an angel with broken wings. She yearned for comfort and love, yet she was scared that at any moment it would be pulled away. She needed to see that his love for her was unconditional.

He ran his fingers gently across her forehead and down her cheek. She seemed to melt at his touch as her eyes closed peacefully. “I love you my darling. I won’t hurt you. I’m right here with you. Just breathe.”

He again lubed his fingers and began to massage her tight ring of muscles. “My sweet Belle, so beautiful. I love you so much my precious Belle.” His words seemed to relax her as her body stopped offering him resistance. She even began to push back on his finger. Rumi removed his finger and slowly inserted the tube, gently twisting it as he did so. 

He soothed her with encouragements and declarations of love as he started the flow of the solution and massaged her abdomen. When the flow stopped he clamped the tube shut. “You are doing so well sweetheart. We are almost done.”

Belle was trying to focus on her breathing, “How much longer?”

“Let the solution sit for about ten minutes and then I’ll help you to the toilet.”

“Ten minutes! I already feel like I need to push.” Belle huffed in discomfort. 

“Shhh, I know sweetheart, but it needs to sit. Would it help if I sung to you?”

Belle looked at him in disbelief. She hadn’t been sung to in decades. “Please.”

Rumi smiled as he smoothed her hair and sang,  
“She wears my ring to show the world that she belongs to me  
She wears my ring to show the world she's mine eternally  
With loving care I placed it on her finger  
To show my love for all the world to see  
This tiny ring is a token of tender emotion  
An endless pool of love that's as deep as the ocean  
She swears to wear it with eternal devotion  
That's why I sing, because she wears my ring  
She swears to wear it with eternal devotion  
That's why I sing, because she wears my ring  
This tiny ring is a token of tender emotion  
An endless pool of love that's as deep as the ocean  
She swears to wear it with eternal devotion  
That's why I sing, because she wears my ring  
That's why I sing, because she wears my ring”

Belle looked down at her engagement ring and felt tears well in her eyes. “Could you sing it again please?”

Rumi wiped away her tears, “Sure sweetheart.”

***

Belle felt as if she had evacuated her own weight in waste by the time she was through. Rumi had warmed the bath water and offered out his hands to take her towel and help her into the bath. For a moment she was self-conscious of the marks on her body. Rumi knew immediately the source of her hesitation, having seen the way she would fold her arms across her body and cover her skin with buttoned cardigans and tights. He pressed a kiss to her crown, “I love every inch of you darling. Your scars are testaments to your strength. They are your history just as this” he brought her hand to his chest so that she could feel his heart, “is yours forever.”

Belle sighed happily, her fears subdued, she allowed him to remove the towel and help her into the tub. She hissed as the water touched her scalded skin, but after a moment the pain subsided and she relaxed. He started with her hair, thoroughly wetting it using Belle’s emptied glass. He then massaged her scalp with her all-in-one soap, a smell he had come to love and associate with her, the scent of bergamot, lemon, sage, clary, ginger, and jasmine. Slightly floral, fresh, and reminiscent of a hot cup of tea on a cold night. 

After rinsing her hair, he lathered a soft cloth with some of her soap and began to gently rub slow circles down her back. Belle mewed in response, closing her eyes and breathing slowly. He washed her arms and her chest. Belle then took the cloth and washed her face and legs. She asked to borrow his razor and then quickly returned her legs and underarms to their usual smoothness. “Ahh,” she sighed, “the new growth was beginning to itch.” 

Rumi smiled, she already seemed so much better. He helped her out of the tub and wrapped his warm robe around her. She held the collar close to her face enjoying his scent, spice and wood with a hint of mint. He towel dried her hair and then gently brushed out the tangles before applying heat with a blow dryer. He walked her to her room bidding her to sit on the bed. He retrieved an oversized t-shirt from a drawer and at her urging two hair ties. He marveled at how quickly she plaited and secured her hair in two side plaits. He helped her to put on the t-shirt, pulling it over her head and guiding her arms through the sleeves. “I need to put ointment on your scalded skin before you put on your panties. I’ll go get it.”

Belle stopped him with a hand on his arm, “May I sleep with you?” The question took Rumi off guard. Only in his wildest dreams had he pictured her body in bed pressed against his own. His wife. She would be his wife and she craved his touch. 

“Of course sweetheart.” She took his hand and carried her panties as he led her to his bed. “Bend over the bed precious.” Belle happily did as she was told and relished the sensation of the soothing ointment on her raw skin. Rumi had her face him and step into her panties. He guided them up her legs slowly, the sight so much like that first time in the shop, but intensified by the weight of the ring on her finger and what it represents. He let his hands rest on her hips as he captured her lips in a kiss, but no sooner had the kiss begun that it was interrupted by Belle’s stomach. 

Rumi broke the kiss and asked, “Do you think you could eat a scrambled egg sandwich?” 

Belle nodded gratefully. 

***  
“Slow down darling. You’ll make yourself sick.” Rumi admonished as Belle seemed to inhale her sandwich. 

“This is so good! These are the best scrambled eggs I’ve ever had! What did you do to them?”

“I put salt and pepper.”

“That’s it?”

“Yep.”

“Hmm.”

“I suspect the reason for their phenomenal deliciousness is that you haven’t eaten in three days.”

“Oh.”

They bid Dove good night as they made their way back to what was to become “their” room. The curtains closed tight against the lightening sky, Rumi and Belle climbed into bed. She scooted back until she was pressed against his chest. He sighed in contentment as he draped his arm over her, his hand over her own, they fit together as if they were two halves of one whole. Sleep found them quickly and despite the trauma of recent events, it was the most peaceful sleep either of them had had in ages. 

***  
The next morning Rumi found himself awake before Belle. For a moment he simply stared at her lovingly, scarcely believing that the wondrous creature before him was really there. It was unbelievable the way things were turning out. He had thought himself to be her monster only to find himself her protector. 

He carefully got out of bed and took a shower. Once he had dressed, he bent over the bed and awakened his Belle with a kiss to the forehead.

She smiled as she slowly opened her eyes, “Is this a dream?”

Rumi smiled, “No princess, this is most definitely real.” He brushed the hair from her face, “Now then, I’m going to get us some breakfast and check in with Dove and Midas. Get up when you are ready sweetheart.” He kissed her once more before making his way downstairs. 

Belle slept a bit longer before finally getting out of bed, carefully sitting for a moment before standing up. She found that while she was feeling much better, her muscles and scalded skin were still very sore. She made her way to her room and pulled on a pair of sweatpants. She then took down her plaits, running her fingers through her hair releasing her bouncy ringlet curls. She then went to the bathroom she typically used and brushed her teeth thoroughly, relishing her now fresh feeling mouth. She washed her face, and made her way downstairs as her mouth watered at the smell of eggs and sausage. 

Dove was sitting in the front room with a cup of coffee, “Good morning Miss French. You look much better.”

Belle nodded her thanks as she turned into the kitchen. Rumi had just finished plating breakfast for the two of them as she took a seat at the table. Rumi smiled at Belle as he sat down her plate as well as two glasses of water. “You are not to leave this table until you have cleared your plate, drank both glasses of water, and received my permission to do so.” The command was clear, though his voice while stern was kind. 

Belle smiled gratefully as she did as she was told. “Is Dove not eating with us?”

Dove answered from the other room, “No Miss, I’m on my way out to run an errand for Mr. Gold.”

Belle nodded and ate her breakfast and drank her water.  
“May I leave the table?” 

Rumi looked up from his breakfast, “Medicine first.” He rose from the table and retrieved a shot glass that held six pills. He sat it in front of Belle, retrieved one of her water glasses and refilled it. Belle swallowed the pills one at a time and in doing so drank all of the water in the glass. 

Rumi smiled down at her proudly, the sight of it making Belle feel warm and loved. 

Rumi helped her out of her chair, “Now then, bathroom break.” With a firm hand at the small of her back he led her to the bathroom. “Try to go.”

Belle felt like a child as she entered the bathroom, but rather than be annoyed she felt herself grin from ear to ear. She felt taken care of. She felt the warmth, love, and safety she had yearned for as a little girl. Making Rumi happy and proud of her filled her with immense joy. She wanted always to be his precious good girl. 

After she had finished he took her hand gently and led her back to the front room. “Sweetheart I spoke to Midas, he faxed over this paperwork for us to sign and then this afternoon you and I will be married.”

Belle’s eyes grew and her mouth gaped open, “We’re getting married today?”

“I promise that we can have a big extravagant wedding later if that is what you want.”

Belle shook her head, smiling as she bit her bottom lip, “No! I want a little wedding without a lot of people.”

Rumi smiled, “Then you shall have it princess. Dove will be back shortly with a cake and groceries for a special dinner. My friend Jefferson is a tailor and milliner, he owns the dress shop in town, I called him this morning and gave him your measurements…”

“How do you know my measurements?”

Rumi smiled slyly, “I got them from measuring your favorite pair of jeans, one of your shirts, and your bra size.”

Belle smiled like a happy chipmunk, “You’re so clever.”

“Indeed I am. Anyway he is going to bring you a dress from his shop that he has adjusted and accented just for you. Unfortunately, I can’t go to your father for flowers and the nearest florist is hours away. Flowers from the garden and yard will have to do.” He was pleased that though winter was upon them, his garden hadn’t seemed to get the memo. 

Belle smiled, placing her hand upon his on her knee, “Those are my favorite kind of flowers.” She thought of the rose he had brought her from his garden that awful day, it seemed right that her wedding bouquet would come from the same soil. 

“Alright then,” Rumi helped her to her feet, “Let’s get you dressed a bit more appropriately for flower picking.” He led her upstairs to her old room and sat patiently upon the bed as she changed in to her favorite pair of jeans that fit her just right and were the perfect length which was so hard to come by for someone of her stature, a bra and a worn grey t-shirt with the rolling stones logo emblazoned on front. As she dressed she tried to covertly judge his reaction to seeing her naked. Never did he look upon her with anything but love, and occasionally she thought she saw some lust there which had her jumping and whooping for joy silently in her head. She took an elastic hair tie from her dresser and pulled her hair in to a quick bun. She grabbed socks from a drawer and a pair of canvas lace ups from the closet. 

“May I sweetheart?” Rumi asked as he reached out his hand for her socks and shoes. 

Belle blushed as she handed them over and took a seat on the bed. Rumi knelt at her feet, gently he cupped her right heel in his warm hands and brought her foot up to his face. He placed a gentle kiss to her ankle before rolling the sock on to her foot, easing on her shoe, and lacing it. He repeated the ritual with the other foot, stood and taking her face into his hands pressed a kiss to her crown. 

He helped her to her feet and led her downstairs. He retrieved some shears and gloves from the mudroom and handed them to Belle as they made their way outside. 

Belle harvested some deep red roses, and setting them aside in a neat pile, proceeded to collect some purple statice. Pleased with her choice she headed back toward the house to put them in water. Rumi stopped her with a hand, “If I may have the shears, I would like to add some myrtle to your bouquet.”

“Myrtle?”

“Aye, it’s that dark green ground cover over there. It’s also known as the sorcerer’s violet. It is said that those who carry it are kept safe from harm.” Rumi spoke as he clipped, handing the cuttings to her, she smiled and curtsied before heading back to the house. Rumi brushed off his hands about to return to the house as well when he felt a meaty arm snake around his neck in a choke hold. He quickly rammed his elbow back into his assailant’s gut and turned in his loosened grip before nailing him in the jaw with a powerful upper cut. His attacker hit the ground like a ton of bricks and Rumi’s mind finally registered that it had been Moe French. Belle! He turned toward the house to see a weasel of a man in a red knit cap sneaking toward the opened back door. He set off at a run shouting for Belle to lock the door. She had been on her way out to see what was taking him so long when she saw him running toward the door. She screamed in terror, hands shaking as she pushed the door shut and locked it. She ran to the laundry room and locked herself inside. She sat upon the cold tile floor of the small dark room, her small arms wrapped around her knees. She looked to the sliver of light shining underneath the door as her only warning of someone outside, and tried to focus on her breathing. In through her nose and blow out the candles. She repeated this mantra that Dr. Hopper had taught her as she struggled to remain calm and alert. 

Rumi thanked heaven when he saw that Belle had gotten the door closed. The weasel in the red cap had heard Rumi yell and upon seeing him running toward him like a freight train had turned and skittered back toward Mr. French’s flower van. Rumi changed direction desperate to catch him, only to see Dove seemingly come out of nowhere and stop the guy like a brick wall. 

With both men subdued Rumi pulled his cell phone out of his pocket and called Sherriff Nolan who just so happened to be only a few streets away and was on the scene in a matter of moments. He arrested Mr. French and his associate Mr. Smee on charges of attempted kidnapping, attempted false imprisonment, and human trafficking after seeing the torturous looking tools in the back of Moe’s white van, and taking a brief statement from Gold, at which point Mr. Smee gladly agreed to spill his guts and throw the Gastons and Mr. French under the bus in return for lesser charges. Rumi smirked. He knew that guy looked like a weasel.

Rumi retrieved his hidden garden key and let himself in to the house. He called out for Belle with assurances that she was safe and that the danger was gone. Belle heard him and on hands and knees crawled to the door of the laundry room and opened it. She peered out cautiously sighing in relief as she saw Rumi. “Rum!”

Rumi immediately turned in the direction of her voice and quickly made his way to her. Dropping to the floor he held his arms out to her letting her cuddle against his chest as she struggled to calm her breathing once more. “Shhh, princess. Your dragon has scared all the other monsters away.”

Belle sniffled and giggled, “You’re not a dragon.”

“Oh I think the villagers might disagree with you. I’m not a very well-liked man.”

“That’s just because they don’t know you like I do.”

“A dragon may be a puppy when he is with his princess, but he is still a dragon.”

Belle hugged him tightly, “I love you my puppy dragon.”

Rumi laughed and kissed her head, “And I love you precious.”

***  
“Where’s the bride to be?” Jefferson called out from the foyer, his arms full of garment bags and a hat box while his little daughter Grace scuttled behind with a duffle bag nearly as big as she was. 

Rumi helped Belle up and led her into the front room. He introduced her to Jefferson and Grace who set down their loads and took a seat. They all had a glass of sparkling water, over which Rumi shared the thrilling events of the afternoon and Jefferson talked about how he came to know Rumi. As Rumi and Jefferson reminisced, Belle could see a closeness between them. It was obvious to Belle that they cared deeply for each other and it pleased her to think that though she had lost her father she would be gaining a family. Belle spoke with, and immediately felt a kinship with little Grace who had also lost her mother. Belle vowed that she would be like an aunt to Grace and make sure that she had a loving female presence in her life. 

Jefferson looked at his watch and waved a hand flamboyantly. “Time is tic-ticking away. Gold go shower, you are sweaty and I will not have the luscious suit I brought you be soaked. And lovely Belle we must get you dolled up.”

Belle led Jefferson and Grace to her room. She showed Grace her collection of Nancy Drew books which the little girl gleefully began to read cross-legged in the floor while Jefferson helped Belle. He handed her silky thigh highs and a garter belt. Seeing her unease, he helped her to put them on and Belle marveled at how the stockings shimmered like pearl mist on her legs. He then laced her into a white cotton corset bustier, and helped her into the dress he had brought for her. Belle smiled as she saw that it was long sleeved and boat necked so that her scars would be hidden from view. Pleased with the fit, Jefferson placed white satin shoes upon her feet and retrieved her makeup kit. He draped a towel over her so that she wouldn’t ruin her makeup. He nodded in approval at her makeup job finding it simple yet elegant, just as Rumi knocked at the door. Jefferson cracked the door a sliver, “You can’t see the bride until she walks downstairs or you won’t get the full effect.” Rumi whispered something she couldn’t quite hear and then passed Jefferson a red velvet rectangular box. Jefferson handed the box to Belle, “Gold wanted you to have this pre wedding gift now.”

Belle bit her lip in excited anticipation as she opened the box and gasped at the sight within. “They’re so beautiful…” she whispered as Jefferson fastened the necklace around her neck and turned her sloppy bun into an elegant Gibson tuck securing it with the metal hair comb. Belle put on the earrings and eagerly went to look at herself in the full length mirror that Rumi had in his room. Belle scarcely recognized herself in the mirror. She had always thought of herself as plain and ordinary, but now…she truly looked like a fairytale princess. Jefferson popped his head into the room, “I’m off to work on your bouquet. Come down stairs and we’ll get you hitched.” He winked before ducking out of the room to head downstairs, she heard him go with little Grace bopping behind him. She took a deep breath headed to the top of the stairs and descended. 

Rumi felt as if time were moving in slow motion as he saw Belle appear at the top of the stairs and begin her descent. She looked like an angel coming down to earth. Her dress was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen with its lace sleeves and lace overlay on white silk. It flowed down her body like liquid mercury and the earrings and necklace made her look regal as they drew attention to her engagement ring. As if in a dream he held out his hand to her and felt his heart hitch as she placed her delicate left hand in his, her ring sparkling under the dimming lights. 

Belle felt like her heart might fly away at the sight of Rumi at the bottom of the stairs. He wore a well-tailored three-piece black suit with a royal blue ascot held by a golden pin. He had shinning gold cufflinks and a deep red rose as his boutonniere, all of which reminded her of her engagement ring. He may think of himself as a dragon, but looking down at him and his loving eyes sparkling up at her, she knew that he was her happy ever after, her brave knight come to rescue her. 

Jefferson had arranged the bouquet beautifully and secured it by wrapping a white silk ribbon around it and pinning it securely in place before tying the remaining ribbon in a beautiful bow at the base of the flowers. Belle smiled thinking her bouquet was better than any that could be bought. Her eyes settled on the myrtle. What had Rumi called it? Sorcerer’s violet? Perhaps it really was magic. When she thought back of all the many things that could have happened, all the ways she might have lost her happy ending, she couldn’t fathom how she and Rumi had managed to hold on to it. She looked down at her flowers and smiled as she felt Rumi put a firm hand on the small of her back. Dove wished them luck and promised to have a delicious meal ready for them all when they returned. 

Jefferson drove them to the park where they were married in the same secluded area that Belle had found comfort in Rumi’s arms and was offered sanctuary in his home. It seemed like so long ago. 

Belle and Rumi exchanged vows and simple gold bands as they were declared man and wife. They kissed passionately as if they were the only two beings in the universe. Jefferson took a few pictures of the big moment, before he cleared his voice and as Belle broke the kiss she saw a starry eyed Grace staring longingly at her before throwing a handful of petals her and Rumi’s way shouting “Yay!”

Jefferson drove them back to Rumi’s pink Victorian home, and they all sighed in happiness at the delicious aromas coming from the house. Dove had set a beautifully romantic table for them all and served beef wellington, grilled lobster, and a salad of shredded raw brussel sprouts with a lemon vinaigrette. The meal was the most delicious she had ever had and she felt truly loved and accepted as she looked around the table. Dove smiled at her and addressed her as Mrs. Gold at every opportunity chuckling at the joy it brought her. Belle had smiled at all of little Grace’s questions about the weird but yummy food, and had giggled at some of the outlandish answers Jefferson had given to Grace. 

Rumi hadn’t been able to take his eyes off of Belle the whole night, smiling so wide that at times Belle thought his face might cramp. She knew that he could barely wait for it to be just the two of them again, and though the night felt like it was moving slowly at times, all at once the cake had been eaten and the coffee drank and everyone was heading home. Rumi and Belle were alone once again. 

Rumi led Belle up to their shared room. He opened the french doors leading out to the balcony patio before turning on the record player. Suddenly music filled the air in the form of “At Last” by Etta James. Rumi turned toward Belle and bowing low asked “May I have this dance Mrs. Gold?” 

Belle pursed her lips in giddy joy, a blush blooming on her face and neck as she curtsied and demurely nodded yes. 

As they danced in the room and out on the patio, cool wind caressing her cheek, the smell of Rumi’s soap and cologne swirling about her head, she felt as if they were floating. The song repeated a few times before they stopped their slow dance and returned to earth. Rum turned off the music and shut the doors as it had begun to rain. He heard Belle sigh as he turned toward her and saw her lying exhausted upon the bed. “Are you alright sweetheart?”

Belle sighed once more as she looked up at Rumi’s concerned face. “I’m still sore from the chair and where my skin is scalded. I’ve taken pain killers a couple of times today, but I guess they wore off.”

Rumi frowned, taking a seat upon the high queen size bed. “I’m so sorry sweetheart. Your pain is my fault.”

Belle caressed his hand with her own, “It isn’t your fault that I stubbornly stayed in that chair.”

Rumi shook his head sadly, “I should’ve known you would have stayed. You are no shrinking violet.”

Belle smiled and attempted to lighten the mood by asking, “Then what flower am I?”

Rumi considered for a moment, “You my dear are belladonna. When handled by a kind hearted and knowledgeable person you are capable of great good, but heaven help the person who abuses you.”

Belle smirked and smiled, “That is a good answer.”

Rumi gave a small smug smile, “You happen to have a clever husband dearest, just as I have a very forgiving and kind wife.” Rumi leaned forward and placed a kiss upon her forehead. “Come on, up you get.” He gently pulled on her hands helping her to sit up and then stand up. “Let’s get you cleaned up and ready for bed.”

Belle allowed Rumi to turn her around and undo the covered buttons that cascaded down her back. She slipped her arms out and stepped out of the dress as Rumi took it and draped it over a chair in the corner of the room. Belle watched as Rumi went to the bedroom fireplace and quickly started a warm, glowing fire as if by magic. He rose and turned back toward her and she heard his breath hitch and saw the lust in his eyes as he took off his own clothes all the while keeping his eyes on her. She looked upon him with only his boxers and she felt her own breath hitch as she bit her bottom lip. He was gorgeous. A living work of art. Her eyes settled on the jagged scars that were scattered across his torso, her hands reaching out instinctively to touch them. He placed his hand over hers holding it to his chest and looked down at her lovingly as she studied his scars.

“These are from the shrapnel?” Rumi had shared the story of how he had seen war up close and how it, as well as his past, shaped the nature of his nightmares. 

Rumi whispered, “yes.”

Belle’s finger tips ghosted over his skin as she traced his scars. “How did it feel?”

Rumi sighed, “I felt every piece individually and all at once, my nerves firing like fireworks.” Tentatively he asked, “Do they bother you?”

Belle looked up at him through misty eyes, “Why should they? They are part of you and I love you. I think you are beautiful.”

Rumi kissed her head. “Not as beautiful as you precious. You were a heavenly vision in your dress, and now standing here in your jewels, corset, stockings, and heels….” He sighed contentedly, “you are a dream come true.”

Belle blushed at his words and felt her skin tingle as he blew gently across her chest and face. 

“May I see your scars sweetheart?” Belle took a deep breath and nodded. 

Rumi turned her around and took a deep breath of her scent as he nuzzled her hair, and then began to trail slow kisses along her neck, shoulders, and back stopping every so often to suck her skin into his mouth gently as he untied and loosened the strings on her corset bustier. He carefully slid the corset down her body and keeling upon the floor, helped her to step out of it before tossing it lightly across the room. She stepped out of her shoes and he set them aside neatly before he reached up and undid her garter belt stays and began to roll her stockings down her legs one at a time laying kisses as he exposed her skin. As he removed each stocking he would plant a kiss to the top of her foot, his warm breath tickling her skin. At last he reached up and pulled down her panties and the garter belt, she stepping out of them lightly before he tossed them aside. He sat back on his heels and stared up at her nude form and sighed happily. “Gorgeous.”

His ministrations and words thrilled her and sent shivers up and down her body leaving her tingling all over, but especially in her groin. 

Rumi could see how turned on he had made her in the way her breathing had changed, the way she struggled to keep her hands at her sides, and he could smell her desire in the heat that radiated from between her legs. He sat her down on the edge of the bed and urged her legs apart. Still on his knees he stared in awe at her glistening folds. He dragged a finger up from her entrance to her clit, the sensation causing her to gasp and arch her back and the sight of him taking his finger coated in her juices and sucking it as if it were coated in honey nearly sent her toppling over the cliff of ecstasy. 

Rumi could see she was close. She was like a spring that was coiled too tight, he just needed to tease her a bit more. He held her ass cheeks in his hands and gave them a squeeze as he held her close to his warm wet mouth. His talented tongue circled her clit before his lips gave it a suck and sent her flying. She fell back upon the bed, writhing and moaning in an orgasmic haze as Rumi continued to lap, lick, and probe, eating his wife out thoroughly. Finally, he rose to his feet and brushed the hair from her awestruck face. “You are delicious my precious Belle.” He left her to enjoy the afterglow while he went to clean himself up after finding his own release in his boxers. 

He returned to her in a clean pair of boxers and his hands full with a glass of water in one and medicine bottles, her scald ointment, and a tin of muscle ointment being supported by his hand and other arm. “Now then, my sore princess let us see if we can ease your tired muscles.” He handed Belle the glass of water and set down the ointment before doling out her medicine as well as pain killers. He then retrieved a clean pair of panties from her old room and her night shirt from the night before off of a chair in their room before making his way back to Belle. 

Seeing that she had taken the medicine and drank the water, he smiled, “Good girl. I love you so much my precious princess. Now stand and I will put your ointment on those scalds.” Belle dutifully stood and turned to face the bed, bending over and spreading her legs for him. She shivered as she felt the initial coolness of the ointment, but she quickly began to savor the relief it brought to her very raw feeling bottom and thighs. Rumi finished and bid her turn around as he knelt before her, easing her panties over her legs he shimmied it to its final destination letting his hands rest on her hips for a moment. “Where are you sore darling?”

Belle let go of a breath she hadn’t realized she had been holding, “I…um… my neck, shoulders, and all of my back, especially my tail bone.”

Rumi once again felt like a monster as her words took him back to the sight of her in that chair in the backroom. He would spend the rest of his life making it up to her he swore it. “Lay on your stomach sweetheart.” Belle did as she was told and felt her tension melt away as Rumi massaged her soreness with the warming ointment. Belle moaned in relaxed pleasure the sound sending warmth radiating out of Rumi’s heart to all his extremities. Little by little Belle became so relaxed that she fell asleep. A smile on her face as she dreamt lovely thoughts. Rumi smiled at the sight of her happy, peaceful, and feeling safe. He wiped his hands with a nearby tissue and threw it away before returning to Belle’s side and pulling the soft sheet and warm comfortable comforter over her still form. Her night shirt forgotten on the end of the bed. He didn’t dare wake her for it. She would be warm enough and deserved rest after the week she had experienced. Rumi turned off the lights and tended to the fire. For some reason that he couldn’t name, he felt on edge. He pulled on his robe and made his way downstairs checking every door and window. He tried to tell himself there was no reason for alarm. They are safe. Belle is safe. No one will take her. Yet he still felt uneasy. Silly old dragon, go hold your princess. He smiled to himself and returned to their room.

The dim fire light illuminated her chestnut hair and the golden comforter bringing up visions of a treasure trove. He smiled, a happy dragon whose treasure was safe. He carefully climbed into bed and snuggled up to Belle. For a time, he simply lay there smelling her scent, listening to her breathing, feeling the warmth of her body, trying to convince himself that she truly was his. 

***

It was dark and cold; he ran his hand along the wall as he tried to make sense of where he was. Stone walls, wind and rain on concrete. A flicker of light before him, drawing him in like a moth to a flame. A torch, he takes it into his hand. There is whimpering, he hears it echoing ghostly through the stone corridor. A chain rattle. He moves toward the sound unthinking. It is a woman; she sounds so scared. He continues to move in the direction of her pitiful crying and the rattle of the heavy chain. He makes his way into a large chamber devoid of light, he holds out his torch and lets the flame illuminate a small figure shaking and whimpering in a corner. She is chained to the wall, her bruised and bloodied hands cover her lowered face, chestnut hair lays like a tangled curtain about her shoulders. Belle! He rushes toward her, but she doesn’t see him. He is but a ghost to her. He tries in vain to touch her, undo her chains, comfort her. He feels helpless in this nightmare world. She begins to speak, her voice trembling, “He’s forgotten me. I’m going to die here alone in the dark. I wasn’t worthy…how could I believe he could ever want me. No one wants me. I’m going to die here and no one will morn me. He’s forgotten me…”

Rumi cried out in anguish, “I’m here darling! I haven’t forgotten you! I’ll never ever forget you!” He kept trying to hold her, touch her, comfort her somehow. His hand moved through her as if they weren’t occupying the space at the same time. All of a sudden a gust of wind blew through the chamber and his torch was gone. He was in darkness. 

Rumi jerked awake in a cold sweat. Belle! He had to get to her, but then as his eyes registered the dim the light of the room he realized that he was in bed. A nightmare, that’s all it had been. He sighed as he turned to look at Belle, hoping he hadn’t awoken her and panicked when he saw that she wasn’t there. For a moment his brain struggled to confirm which scenario was reality, but then he saw her dress draped over the chair right where he had left it and calmed somewhat. The fire had died down leaving only faintly glowing embers. He got out of bed and pulled on his robe. Carefully he made his way to the top of the stairs and saw a dim light coming from the direction of the kitchen. 

Belle was sitting at the kitchen table with a warm cup of cocoa and her keys. 

“Thinking of going somewhere?” Rumi asked in a playful tone that didn’t quite hide his apprehension. 

“My mother gave me this keychain. I was a latch key kid growing up. She did the engraving herself, ‘May my golden lily always bloom.’ She was the only one who ever made me feel like a ‘golden lily’ until I met you.” Belle smiled up at him, but he could see the tracks of her tears. 

“You’ve been crying.” He closed the space between them and wiped away her tears with his thumbs. 

Belle sniffled, “It’s nothing, I just wish my mother had gotten to see me in my dress…and…I really wish my father were dead, and the fact that I would wish such a thing, think such a thing…I’m a terrible person.” Belle began to weep as Rumi took her into a comforting embrace. 

“You are not a terrible person. Your father is a terrible person. You have every right to feel the way you do.”

“Then why does it hurt?” Belle shook her head, “I always suspected that my father’s love was conditional. I knew I was never his first concern, but it still hurts that he would try to kidnap me and sell me like some breeding mare. I hate him, and that upsets me because he’s my father.”

Rumi continued to hold her close, “I understand sweetheart. We want to believe the best of our parents, but sometimes they fall far below the line of being a good person. That is not a reflection on us, and though they helped to give us life we needn’t feel tied to a person who has caused us nothing but misery and who has turned their back on us at every turn.”

Belle sighed, “Then why doesn’t my heart believe that?”

“Because you are a good person sweetheart.” Rumi place a kiss to the top of her head. “Do you think you could get some more sleep?”

Belle took a deep breath, exhaling slowly she replied, “I think so.”

Belle and Rumi got back into bed, Rumi spooning up behind Belle as they settled in. As they lay there in the dark Belle whispered, “I don’t think I can face him…during the trial and after.”

“Shh, don’t worry about it sweetheart. No one will make you do anything you don’t want to do. Your deposition will surely be enough. Now then, try to relax precious.”

They lay quietly in the darkness for a moment before Rumi whispered, “Belle?”

“Hmm?

“When you were sitting in that chair…did you…I mean was there ever a time that you thought that I had forgotten about you?” Rumi’s voice was apprehensive. He didn’t want to know, but at the same time he needed to.

“I knew you would come back eventually, I just hoped that I would be able to hold out until then.”

Rumi sighed sadly, “Never again sweetheart. You will never feel alone again, I swear it. I will always protect you.”

Belle smiled in Rumi’s embrace, “I know Rum. I know.”

 

***  
Rumi felt helpless as he tried to comfort Belle through another of her panic attacks. His sweet angel was in pain and he couldn’t ease it. He could only hold her until the shaking would subside and the tears would dry. He would treat the headache that would always linger in the aftermath and ease her through the depression fog that lingered. Dr. Hopper had explained that this was to be expected. The stress of the trial had been too much to bear. Rumi had kept her from it as much as he could, but she had wanted to know what her father had planned for her. She needed to know the extent to which he would have went for mere money, but the truth was so much more horrific then she could have imagined. Rumi had wrapped his arm around her protectively as Mr. Smee explained in horrific details what her father and the Gastons had planned as the court was shown the pictures that the police had taken of her father’s van and the dungeon of a room in the Gastons home that had been set aside for her. The chains, the ball gags, rope, drugs, how she was to be raped repeatedly in the hopes of impregnating her and kept in chains in the dark until she had produced the heir the Gastons needed; Belle couldn’t hear or see any more she was hyperventilating. Rumi sensed her distress immediately and led her out of the courtroom. Belle felt a wave of heat come over her as her ears filled with high pitched ringing, she couldn’t breathe. Her legs were numb and unsteady as Rumi helped her out into the empty hall and to a bench. “You’re safe Belle. I’m here.” Rumi held her and worried at how pale and peaked she appeared as he dabbed at the sheen of sweat forming on her brow with a handkerchief. 

Belle felt her vision blur as the ringing in her ears became unbearable. She sounded winded as she moaned “Rum! I can’t see. It’s too loud. It’s so hot.” Then she felt all of the strength leave her as she collapsed into unconsciousness in Rumi’s arms. 

***  
Belle could hear the sounds of the car and feel a warm breeze from the car vents as a gentle hand stroked her hair. She managed to get her bleary eyes open and saw that she was being held by Rumi in the backseat of their Cadillac while Dove was in the front driving them home. 

“What happened?” Belle asked in tremulous whisper.

“You passed out sweetheart. I thought it best to take you home.” Rumi pressed a kiss to her head and spoke softly against her hair, “I was so worried about you, but you’re safe. I won’t let anyone take you or harm you.” 

Belle nodded as tears silently trailed down her face. Rumi didn’t need to ask to know that the cause was her father’s depravity, so he simply held her close until the tears stopped. 

***

The jury took very little time deliberating before they came back with their verdict. Guilty. It was over, Belle and Rumi both sighed in relief. 

The next few weeks were busy as the flower shop that had belonged to Belle’s parents was signed over to Belle. Her childhood home was sold and the money went toward the costs of the trial. Belle prayed that it would become a place of happy memories once more with a family that would care for it. 

In record time Belle had returned the flower shop to its former glory. She straightened out the book keeping and with Rumi’s help bailed it out of the debt that her father had wreaked in her absence. They refurbished the shop and as the first signs of spring began to appear, gone was the old shop name of Game of Thorns and in its stead they rechristened it  
The Rose.

Rumi had smiled when she had suggested the name change. He thought back to the rose he had given her that day in the shop, the day that had changed everything. He smiled as he remembered the roses in her wedding bouquet and how that day had been one of the worst and certainly the best day of his life. He said a silent thanks that things had worked out as they did. That Belle had been able to lock the door that day and that he had been able to overpower her father. 

Rumi sighed contentedly as he made his way up to the porch of their home, dinner in hand. There was a warm autumn breeze and the leaves were beginning to change colors. Belle had taken to splitting her time between the both of their shops. She had come so far in regaining her bravery and sense of safety. They had security installed in the house and both shops. And as an extra precaution Rumi had purchased an alert bracelet for her that when activated would send him a text message telling him she was in trouble and her location, in that way she could feel safe when they were apart (not that they were apart very often). Rumi smiled as he entered the house and turned into the kitchen. She has been in the garden, he thought with a smile as he set down the dinner he had picked up from Granny’s on the table and leaned in to smell the fragrant air surrounding the vase of roses on the table. He had built her a greenhouse and she had immediately begun to turn it into a fragrant wonderland of orchids, roses, and all manner of bulb flowers. It warmed Rumi’s heart to see how far Belle had come, she was beginning to regain some of the carefree happiness she had lost and he had regained his chance at being someone’s protector. He doted on Belle and she seemed to eat it up becoming giggly and childlike when they were together. No longer did she have to come to him in pain begging for his help, his hands, his love…Spanking, and a few other things Rumi would never have believed he would be doing, had become a normal part of their everyday routine. It had been difficult at first, while he had gotten to a point where he could allow himself to enjoy spanking Belle, he still felt trepidation at trying new things. They had begun to take couples counseling with Dr. Hopper and the talking that they accomplished during sessions had helped him to work up the courage to take Belle up on her suggestion of a paddle and light flogging. The paddle had been enjoyable for them both, but the flogging…  
Belle had been enjoying it, the distinctive pain of every cord and the warming sensation of them combined, but Rumi had begun to feel uncomfortable as he saw welts begin to rise up on Belle’s scarred back. He began to hyperventilate as he stumbled back from where she was sitting backward in a hard wood chair with her bare back toward him, falling on to his bottom he pushed the heels of his hands and feet against the carpet until he felt the corner of the room behind his back. He began to cry as he pressed the heels of his hands to his eyes as if trying to blot out the sight of the welts blooming on her pale skin. 

Belle had heard his breathing become quicker and worried when she heard him fall. She quickly got out of the chair, sore though she was, and tried to help him up but to her dismay he scuttled backward away from her as if she were a specter of vengeance come to hurt him. Distressed, she grabbed their soft blankets from the bed, the ones that they would relax in as they would come back down to earth after a session, and knelt by his side. She wrapped his soft red blanket around his naked form carefully and then pulled her blue one about her shoulders. She smoothed his hair and whispered soothing susurrus until the stress began to leave him and he laid his head in her lap. For a long while they simply held each other in the floor, warm in their blankets. Finally, Belle asked, “Do you want to talk about what happened?”

Rumi sniffled, “It…I left welts on your back. I can’t…I don’t want you marred. I don’t want to be the source of a scar on your body, another unhappy memory.”

Belle massaged his scalp as she spoke, “We will add that to our list of don’ts. Nothing that leaves marks. But sweetheart I want you to know that you didn’t hurt me in a bad way, and not all scars have to represent unhappy memories.” 

It would take time for them to discover the things that felt right for the both of them. It was like a game of tug of war in which they just needed to find the right amount of tension to keep them both on edge without falling. 

Life still had its ups and downs. Belle still struggled as did Rumi, but they had each other and the support and knowledge that there was someone who truly loved them and would never abandon them.  
Rumi was brought back to the present by the sight of Belle in a flowy pale blue boat neck dress with a white swallow print. He smiled stupidly as he stared at the goddess he had somehow been blessed with as she crossed the kitchen. She kissed him and whispered, “Happy anniversary.” Rumi thought for a moment, “That day we ate under the tree in the park and I asked you to come live with me.”

Belle smiled, “It was also our first date.”

Rumi huffed playfully, “I seem to remember us sharing lunch many times before that.”

“Those were just lunches in the shop. That day you gave me a brilliant red rose and took me out to a special place. That’s what makes it a date.”

Rumi looked thoughtful, “So this delicious dinner only counts as a date if it is eaten elsewhere?”

Belle giggled, “No silly, it just needs to be romantic. Here.” Belle set out the food and lit some candles. She then handed Rumi a gift wrapped in pale pink paper. He opened it and saw that it was a photo album. On the first page there was a poem bordered by a bramble of roses:

Some say love, it is a river, that drowns the tender reed  
Some say love, it is a razor, that leaves your soul to bleed  
Some say love, it is a hunger, an endless aching need  
I say love, it is a flower, and you, its only seed  
It’s the heart afraid of breaking, that never learns to dance  
It’s the dream afraid of waking, that never takes a chance  
It’s the one that won't be taking, that cannot seem to give  
It's the one afraid of dying, that never learns to live  
When the night has been too lonely and the road has been too long  
And you think that love is only for the lucky and the strong  
Just remember in the winter, far beneath the bitter snow  
Lies the seed, that with the sun's love in the spring becomes the rose.  
\--Amanda McBroom

He felt tears begin to pool in his eyes as he turned the page and saw a picture of the rose he had given her that day in the shop. She smiled, “I preserved it and my wedding bouquet. I put them in two vases in our bedroom.”

He looked up at her with tears trailing down his face and smiled. He flipped through the album tracing the beautiful pictures that filled it lightly with his finger. Pictures of the shop, of him working, their wedding and the dinner they shared afterward, them together working to fix the flower shop, Belle in the garden… He couldn’t keep the joy with in him from bubbling up and out so he stood and captured her mouth in a kiss. This was their happy ending; they need only continue to pursue it.


End file.
